


Queen of the Ashes

by OpheliaKatherineDokee



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, I know not what I'm doing, I'll probably be contradicted by Season 3, Incest, Minor Original Character(s), Morally Ambiguous Character, Multiple Pairings, Please Don't Kill Me, Sabrina becomes Queen of Hell, Satan wins, Stockholm Syndrome, at first anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2020-01-23 16:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 63,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18553597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpheliaKatherineDokee/pseuds/OpheliaKatherineDokee
Summary: The Spellmans are unable to foil the Dark Lord's apocalyptic plans. Will Sabrina be forced to accept her fate as Queen of Hell? Or does she still have a hope of saving the world and herself from His rule?





	1. The Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> This story goes with two what-if scenarios that cause Lucifer to win; the first being that Harvey, Roz and Theo are unable to keep the Gates of Hell closed, and the second being that Nick never arrives to help Sabrina fix the Acheron Configuration.  
> You have been warned; this work will contain some pretty dark/heavy themes hence the warning tags. While nothing is explicit, I would still suggest not reading if you find said themes triggering.

Three teens stood before the Gates of Hell, rifles in hand. Sweat poured down their ashen faces, mainly from the intense heat that permeated the cavern but also from anticipation at what was about to go down. Their weapons were pointed at the huge door, their hearts pounding as the same burning question flashed through their minds in unison.

 

_Would the sigils work?_

 

On the other side, the sound of hundreds, if not thousands of footfalls thundered closer and closer. The literal spawn of hell were going to come bursting through those doors any second now- if the sigils were unable to keep them shut.

And if that happened then they would be doomed, and so would the rest of the world soon after. They knew very well that flimsy human weapons like guns and dynamite would prove about as effective as an umbrella in a hurricane against the approaching army of demons, and they were only mortals with no magic to even defend themselves, let alone put up a half-decent fight. They were easy pickings for the bloodthirsty creatures they were surely about to come face-to-face with.

 

Any mortal with any sense of self-preservation would have fled by now.

Then again, if these three ever had any of that, they wouldn't have risked going down there in the first place. They would have ran for the hills when Sabrina told them the gates of Hell were about to be thrown open. But they were her friends, and they wanted to help her defend Greendale even if it meant risking their own lives in the process.

That was what friends were for.

 

But their efforts were in vain. With a deafening thud, the hordes reached the doors and pushed against them with all their considerable might. The sigils made little to no impact on their progress, the power of thousands of demons enough to overcome them.

Slowly but surely the doors began to creak open, and the trio could only stare in dumbstruck horror.

 

“It's not working,” said Rosalind, trying and failing to hide her rising panic. The Cunning had never lied, and her visions had shown her that those sigils were the ones that would be able to hold the gates at bay. So what had they done wrong?

 

“Maybe those aren't the right sigils?” Harvey knew this was the worst possible time to start questioning his girlfriend's ability, but he was clutching at straws here.

 

Theo wasn't ready to give up yet.

 

“Maybe there aren't enough of them!” He reached down to grab more of the signs and headed towards to gates, only for Harvey to stop him.

 

“Are you crazy?! You can't go near there!” he yelled, yanking his friend away. Theo wriggled against him and protested, sure his plan would work if Harvey could just let him carry it out.

 

The gates cranked open even further, and Rosalind lost what was left of her composure.

 

“We need to get out of here now or we're going to die!” she shrieked, causing the other two to stop their bickering and look to her, their argument forgotten. Premonition or not, they knew she was right.

 

In that split-second moment, they reached an agonizing decision. They could stay, try to hold back the gates, and perish horribly in the process. Or they could run now and possibly live to see another day. In the face of what seemed to be guaranteed failure, they chose the latter.

 

“Run!”

 

Harvey let go of Theo. Theo let go of the sigils. The three of them abandoned their mission to keep the gates closed, and ran as though their lives depended on it...which they did. They fled for the exit, leaving the cavern just in the nick of time as the Gates of Hell swung open.

 

In a burst of fire, the aristocracy of Hell spilled out of them. Some could pass as human at a glance, but upon looking closer one would realize that there was something incredibly...wrong about them. Even the more beautiful ones displayed a certain uncanniness, their teeth far too sharp and their eyes too soulless as they leered around at the cavern they found themselves in. They were filled with glee at the prospect of ascending to the world above and inflicting the same subjugation on the living as they had on the damned.

 

Others made no attempt at appearing human. They were indescribable monstrosities that would only haunt the worst nightmares of mortals before, now free to roam the land of the awake.

 

The three fleeing humans didn't dare look back to see what horrors had just been unleashed on the world, continuing to run and hoping desperately that the demons hadn't noticed their retreating forms yet. They doubted they would be able to outrun them if they decided to give chase.

Unfortunately the gates opening had not only released the demons but also the heat of Hell. The temperature seemed to rise with them as they made their way upwards through the mine and the hot atmosphere went from uncomfortable to unbearable. They were already panting from exertion, struggling to take in the oxygen that was becoming scarcer each second.

 

But they were nearly there. Theo, whose basketball practice had made him the quickest of the group, soon spotted the welcome sight of the mine entrance. If they could just get out there, into the open air-

 

“Roz!”

 

Theo turned to see Rosalind had collapsed on the hard floor and Harvey had stopped to help her. Never one to abandon his friends, Theo made his way back to them even though he wanted nothing more than to get out of this inferno.

 

“Come on Roz, there's not much further to go,” Harvey encouraged, taking Rosalind's hand and helping her to her feet. She swayed on the spot and he reached out to steady her.

 

“I- I can't breathe...” She gasped. Black spots were appearing in her vision and she was sure she would soon faint from lack of oxygen. Losing what was left of her strength, she collapsed again.

 

She wasn't the only one struggling. Harvey didn't have the strength to pull her up a second time, and when he tried to do so, he was hit by a wave of dizziness that nearly knocked him out. Staggering, he fell to the ground at Roz's side.

 

Theo was still on his feet, but sure he wouldn't be for long. “Guys...” he whispered, pointing to the end of the corridor. Deep from within the mines, a spooky orange glow was drawing closer and closer, along with the sound of footsteps. A horrible, high-pitched voice, childlike in quality yet with none of the innocence a child possessed, rang out in the gloom.

 

“Come to me, mortal children! We know you're in here with us. Come back to us and play!” she sang, and then burst into giggles. The sound echoed throughout the mine, and they could have sworn they could see the demon's shadow dancing on the walls.

 

“They're coming. We need to get out, _now_.” But Roz and Harvey weren't going anywhere, and Theo wasn't going to leave them to face the hordes of Hell alone.

 

If they were going to die here, then they would die together.

 

“Well, well, well...I hadn't expected to find you three here.”

 

It was the last voice on Earth any of them had expected to hear. Standing in the mine doorway was none other than their school principal, Ms. Wardwell.

 

“Ms. Wardwell? What- are – you -doing – down- here?” wheezed Roz, as she and the others gaped at their teacher.

 

A smirk appeared on Wardwell's crimson lips. “I could ask the same of you...but I can guess. You three silly mortals, stop the Gates of Hell from opening? As if... but I suppose I should give you credit for your valiant efforts,” she said, with all her usual cynicism. They continued to gawk at her.

 

“Cat got your tongues? Well, to answer your question, I'm here to gather the aristocracy of Hell for your friend Sabrina's coronation. How lovely to see they are already getting in the celebratory mood. Little Lamia seems to have taken an interest in you.”

She cast a contemptuous glance down the corridor in the direction the voice had come from, before continuing, “But she will have to wait.”

 

She began to walk slowly towards them, almost mockingly. Her smile looked unnerving in the dim light of the mines, and a collective shiver ran through the three teens.

 

“Now...what to do with you?”

 

* * *

 

It was hopeless.

 

Sabrina had been scouring her father's- or rather, Edward Spellman's- books for the last several hours, trying desperately to find something, _anything_ , that could help her fight the Dark Lord. So far, she was having no luck.

 

And time was ticking away all the while. It was only a matter of minutes before Lilith returned to take her to the Academy of Unseen Arts.

There, she would be crowned Queen of Hell before all its demonic masses. She would be bound to her most hated enemy for all eternity, forced to stand meekly by his side and be complicit in his evil plans for the world. Under his rule, both mortals and witches would be oppressed. The Earth would be overrun by demons, billions of people would suffer and life would become a living hell...literally.

 

And it would be all her fault.

 

It wasn't fair. She had wanted to make the world a _better_ place. She had thought she was doing everything she could to _stop_ the apocalypse from happening. She had studied her magic intently with the hopes that one day she would be the one to defeat him. She had tried to stand up to him when no other witch, warlock or mortal dared to. But all this time, she had just been a pawn in his twisted game.

 

And he had the audacity to call himself her father.

 

She fumed at the very thought. As far as she was concerned, her real father was dead. She owed nothing to the Dark Lord; not her love, not her respect, not her gratitude and certainly _not_ her submission. She was her own person and she wanted to choose her own destiny, not blindly follow the path he had chosen for her...especially not when it was as terrible as this.

She refused to be his puppet any longer! She would not, could not take up the crown of Hell and become his queen. She abhorred everything he stood for, so doing so would be the ultimate betrayal of her principles. How could she live with herself if she gave them up now?

 

She would find a way to defeat him. She _would_. Somehow...

 

“Still at the books, are we?”

 

Sabrina looked up from Spellman's journal in resignation at the sound of Lilith's voice, knowing her time was up. Her mouth dropped open when she saw that Lilith was not alone. Then a true smile spread across her face for the first time that day.

 

“Harvey! Roz! Theo!”

 

She rushed towards her friends, throwing her arms around them and pulling them towards her in a tight hug. They were a dirty, dishevelled mess but she didn't care. She had never been so relieved to see anyone in her life.

 

“Sabrina...” They held the group hug, all the while trying to explain themselves to her.

 

“Sorry Brina, nothing we tried on the gates helped-”

 

“We tried using sigils but they didn't even work. We only got away because Ms. Wardwell found us-”

 

Sabrina didn't need any explanations. “It's OK, it's OK! I'm just glad you guys got out of there alive!”

And she really _was_ glad. When she had been forced to blow Gabriel's horn, her first fear had been for her friends. She knew they were searching for the gates and didn't want them to become the first mortals to fall to the demonic horde. She had been trying to phone them but none of her calls had gone through, which did nothing to ease her worries.

 

She would never have forgiven herself if her friends had wound up dead or worse thanks to her actions. No one ever wanted to have to make the decision between protecting their friends or their family, but that was what she had been forced to do and in that moment she had chosen her aunties.

 

“They were in a sorry state when I found them. Less than ten feet from the door and unable to move any further, and some of my...colleagues...had caught scent of them. Lucky really, that I was there to lend a helping hand before things got messy," Lilith explained when Sabrina cast her a questioning glance.

“Speaking of which, I really must be getting back. The Dark Lord will be expecting to meet his guests. Why not take this opportunity to have a nice chat with your mortal friends, hmm? You may not get any more chances after tonight.”

 

With this ominous statement, she disappeared. The three mortals stared after her in incredulity, before rounding on Sabrina.

 

“She's not who we thought she was, is she?” said Theo, still shell-shocked.

 

Sabrina shook her head.

“Nope. But she's not just a witch. She's Lilith.”

 

Harvey and Theo looked blank at this revelation, but Roz lit up in recognition.

 

“Lilith? Hey, isn't she that lady who got kicked out of the Garden of Eden because she refused to obey Adam? Wow, I always admired her.”

 

“The same. She's also known as Madam Satan. She's the Mother of Demons and she's been serving the Dark Lord this whole time. She was the one who tricked me into becoming the Herald of Hell.”

Rosalind's face fell slightly at this, and Sabrina added, “She regrets working for him now. She even helped us try to kill him earlier.”

 

Too bad it didn't work.

 

Nonetheless, she felt the need to defend her. Sure, the demoness had tried to kill her the day before and it was her fault the world was now in dire peril, but she knew she had herself to blame too. And when she spoke to her earlier, she got the impression that Lilith was every bit as much the Dark Lord's victim as she was. She would just be playing further into his hands if she chose to hate Lilith.

 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. You tried to kill the Dark Lord earlier? What's been going on while we were down in the mines? And what did she mean, you might never get the chance to talk to us again?”

 

“You _met_ the Dark Lord? And you're still _alive_?”

 

Faced with an onslaught of questions from her friends, Sabrina sighed.

 

“I've got so much to tell you...”

 

She proceeded to recount everything that had happened; the prophecy, the counterproductive efforts she had made to stop it being fulfilled, Nick's betrayal, the Dark Lord's plans to make her his queen, about him revealing himself to be her father. She told them of Lilith's change of heart, and how she had conspired with her and her family to kill the Dark Lord, and how the plan had failed, resulting in her being forced to blow the horn to open the Gates of Hell...

 

All the while they listened, their expressions becoming more and more stricken. When she finally finished her tale, there was a long silence which Harvey was the first to break.

 

“So...the Dark Lord wants to make you his...queen? ...Does he want to marry you, or what?”

 

Roz shot him a look at this, while Sabrina's heart sank. It was the same disturbing question she had been asking herself but couldn't bring herself to say out loud. Ever since Lucifer had dropped that bombshell regarding her true parentage, she had chosen to assume he wanted her to rule beside him as his daughter, not as his bride. She had chosen to think this way mainly so she could keep her own peace of mind. But deep down, she knew it was a naïve assumption to make.

The Church of Night had a long history of taboo practices, with marriage among relatives once being the norm. Not to mention that despite what Lilith said, Lucifer clearly fancied himself to be a god, and the gods were notorious for such relationships.

He was the Dark Lord, the very personification of evil. Somehow she doubted a heart-warming father-daughter relationship was all he wanted from her.

 

“I don't know. I wouldn't put it past him.” She avoided meeting the eyes of her mortal friends, which she knew would be filled with pity and disgust on her behalf. “But I'm not going to find out,” she continued, her resolution returning in full force.

 

“You have another plan?”

 

“...No.”

And that was extremely frustrating. She was usually full of plans. As Zelda had said before, Spellmans would always find a way and she knew she was still one, no matter what Lucifer might tell her. But right about now, she was stumped. Every single possibility she had considered so far was too hazardous. She couldn't risk failing in another attempt to defy the Dark Lord, not when her aunts' lives were on the line.

Whatever plan she came up with needed to be fool-proof.

 

So far, the only idea she had that carried the slightest bit of merit was her father's Acheron Configuration. It was able to trap Batibat, so it might be able to trap the Dark Lord. Unfortunately the device was currently broken, possibly beyond repair. She had looked at it carefully but was unable to figure out how she could get it working.

If only Nick were here, he might know how to fix it...

 

_No._

Just thinking about him was too painful right now. She had trusted him, possibly even loved him. He had helped her recover from the heartbreak she felt over ending her relationship with Harvey and given her new hope. She had felt safe with him in a way she had felt with no one before, and thought the feeling was mutual.

But it had all been a lie. Every special moment they had shared together, and everything she had confided in him...it all haunted her now. All along, he had only been following Lucifer's orders. Nothing was real.

 

A small part of her knew she was being unfair. She had first-hand knowledge of what could happen when you refused to do what the Dark Lord wanted, and it wasn't pretty. Could she really blame Nick for not daring to disobey?

 

Maybe not, but that didn't change the fact that he had betrayed her. He had hurt her, and she didn't think she could ever trust him again.

 

Right now, it was her friends who were there for her. They might not have been able to help her mend the Acheron but their company still brought her some much needed assurance. Even as she examined the device to try and find a way to get it working again, they continued her search through her father's books to see if they could find any useful info.

 

“It says here that the Spear of Longinus is the only weapon known to be able to kill Satan,” said Roz, pointing to a page on the book she was reading about ancient artefacts. Sabrina looked up from the archeron configuration, her interest peaked.

 

“He mentioned that earlier. Does the book say anything about where to find it?” she asked, the spark of hope reigniting in her. The Academy of Unseen Arts had a lot of magical items, perhaps the Spear was among them?

 

“No, apparently it was lost over a thousand years ago and no one's seen it since. It's believed to have been destroyed.”

 

Sabrina wilted, the brief spark snuffed out. _Great._ Well, the Dark Lord probably wouldn't have told her if he knew there was any real chance of her getting her hands on it.

 

“We might be able to track it down,” suggested Theo, flushed with excitement at the prospect of relic-hunting. Sabrina wasn't quite as optimistic.

 

“And you think no one else has tried that? It could be anywhere. Even if we did find it, it would be too late.”

 

“Better late than never!” Theo insisted, to the agreement of both Harvey and Roz.

 

“Except when the world's been overrun by demons! If I killed their king, what do you think they'll do? Just go back to Hell? Some other demon will take his place or worse, they'll descend into anarchy and slaughter everyone. Do you want that?!”

 

The Dark Lord might be evil but at least she knew what his endgame was; to rule the world, not destroy it. Whereas she had absolutely no clue what his lackeys would decide to do with the newly-dominated Earth once their leader was gone. Better the devil you knew than the devil you didn't. And in this case, that wasn't even a euphemism.

 

Her friends were taken aback at her outburst, and she felt a pang of guilt. They were only trying to help. She had been betrayed by both Lilith and Nick, people she thought she could trust, and now here she was treating the friends who had never betrayed her trust like dirt.

 

She adopted a more gentle tone. “I'm sorry, I just...I don't want to make things worse than they already are. I've done enough damage.”

 

A smug voice cut in.

 

“Well, I never. I didn't suppose I would ever see the day where Sabrina Spellman admitted to making a mistake.”

 

Sabrina wheeled around to see Madam Satan had returned and was leaning against the door, eyeing her students with some wane amusement.

She had traded her teacher dress for a glittering evening gown with a plunging neckline showing off her (admittedly generous) cleavage. Sabrina suspected the real Ms. Wardwell would have been mortified to see it.

 

“That's ironic, coming from you. Most of those mistakes were encouraged by you because you wanted me to fulfil the prophecy,” she retorted. She had largely forgiven Lilith for her previous actions but still couldn't keep the bitterness out of her tone.

 

Lilith's smile remained, but Sabrina could tell she wasn't the only one feeling bitter at the moment. How sad it was that she would be getting what Lilith always wanted, when she didn't even want it herself.

 

“You were the one who chose to follow through with them. We have all made our mistakes, my dear, and have suffered the consequences. All we can do now is try to make the best of a bad situation.”

 

That was an awfully defeatist thing for someone like Lilith to say, Sabrina couldn't help thinking. The resolve the demoness gained earlier to defeat the Dark Lord and take his crown seemed to have all but disappeared. Perhaps that was how she had become trapped in serving a cruel master for so many thousands of years.

Just like she had said, it was all she had ever known.

 

Sabrina resolved then and there that no matter what happened, she would not end up like her. She wouldn't become resigned to her fate to the point that she just accepted everything. She would find a way to fight back...even if she couldn't find one right now.

 

The mood in the room was sombre and silent as Lilith prepared Sabrina for the ball. She brushed out the young witch's white blonde curls, removing her trademark black Alice band; it wouldn't match the dress and she would be wearing a crown soon anyway. She applied Sabrina's makeup; painting her lips red and adding black pencil to her eyelids, something she would normally forgo. Once the hair and cosmetics were complete, it was time to change into her coronation gown.

With a snap of Lilith's fingers, Sabrina's dark blue pullover and jeans were replaced by the golden dress. It was by far the most extravagant thing she had ever worn, with a bodice made up of beaten gold leaves and a long, flowing skirt of purest silk. It fit her perfectly, accentuating her petite figure and complimenting her fair complexion.

 

Her friends stared at her in awe. None of them had ever seen her looking so formal and refined, and they didn't know what to make of it.

 

“...You look beautiful...” said Harvey, once he had found his voice.

 

“Gold actually really suits you,” said Roz, too busy marvelling at Sabrina's transformation to bother getting annoyed by Harvey's comment. Even Theo, who had never been much interested in clothing and fashion even before his transition, seemed affected.

 

Sabrina gazed at the unfamiliar girl in the mirror, not feeling beautiful in the slightest. True, the gown was pretty. And Lilith had done a good job with her hair and make-up. But when she thought about the occasion at hand, she just wanted to shatter the glass, scrub the product off her face and set fire to the dress. Preferably while she was still wearing it.

 

She caught herself at that last thought. Things were bad enough already without succumbing to suicidal tendencies. Nonetheless, she was less like Cinderella and more like Persephone; dragged to hell and forced into a role she was sure to hate.

 

“So are we going now?” she asked Lilith, her tone strangely cold and robotic.

 

“In a moment. You need to pack first.”

 

“Pack?”

 

“Why, yes. You didn't think you would be returning here after the coronation, did you? The Queen of Hell, living in a common town house with her aunties? The Dark Lord would never stand for that. You will be moving into the Academy for the unforeseeable future, where you will have the coven to wait on you hand and foot. Or what remains of the coven, anyway.”

 

There was definitely some bitterness in her voice now. However, her eyes softened slightly when she saw Sabrina's sad face.

 

“I am sure your aunts will still be permitted to visit you. Now, you need not pack much. Everything will be provided for you. But if there's any special keepsakes or mementos you want to take with you, now is the time to gather them,” she said, a little too knowingly at the end. Sabrina wondered if she somehow knew about her trying to fix the Acheron Configuration.

 

She took her time in packing her bag. She included her father's journal, several of her favorite books, the necklace Harvey gave her, and the Configuration, which she locked in a box to prevent it being discovered. She paused when she came across Salem's box of cat toys.

 

“I'm allowed to take Salem, right?” She couldn't leave him behind. She needed him now more than ever.

 

Thankfully Lilith conceded. “Of course. A witch can't be without her familiar.” She chuckled after saying this, though Sabrina wasn't sure what was so funny.

 

Unless the joke was that technically she _wasn't_ even a witch any more. All her magical powers had died with the mandrake, rendering her essentially mortal. She wondered what the demons were going to think of a mortal human becoming their queen; not much, she'd imagine. Would she be faced with more renegades trying to kill her like the Plague Kings had?

 

With this possibility in mind, she added the witch whistle Zelda gave her to her bag, along with Salem's toys.

 

“Ready?” Lilith inquired once she had finished packing.

 

_No._

 

She shrugged. “As ready as I can be.”

 

“Then we must be off.” She reached for Sabrina's arm, but then Harvey cut in.

 

“Wait!”

 

Sabrina and Lilith both turned to look at him. He had stepped forward, his face pale but resolute.

 

“We want to come with you,” he said quietly. Roz and Theo both nodded in agreement.

 

Sabrina blanched. “No, just no. It's way too dangerous.” It was out of the question, and not only for safety reasons. The last thing on Earth she wanted was for her childhood friends to witness her being crowned Queen of Hell. Revealing herself to be a witch had put enough of a dent in her relationship with them, so she wasn't sure if it could survive that.

 

Madam Satan came to her rescue. “She is right. The Academy of Unseen Arts is no place for mortals at the best of times, let alone when it's playing host to the aristocracy of Hell. Most of whom have a taste for human flesh, might I add. You are far better off staying away.”

 

“Brina-” Harvey began, but Sabrina was insistent.

 

“No, Harvey. My aunts and Ambrose are coming with me, because the Dark Lord said I had to bring them. I'm sorry...I know you want to be there for me and I'm thankful...but I don't want you to see it. And I don't want him trying to use you as leverage against me.”

 

It took her a second to realize she was crying now, the tears blurring her vision and ruining the make-up Lilith had applied. Seeing her distress, her friends quickly pulled her into another hug and whispered words of consolation.

 

“'Brina...”

 

“Please don't cry. Of course we understand.”

 

“If only we'd been able to keep the gates closed, then it might not have come to this,” Roz mourned. “I saw the sigils in my head. They should have worked. They should have kept the demons trapped!”

 

Sabrina pulled away from the hug to look her in the eye.

 

“It doesn't matter. You tried, and that's more than most people would have dared to do. You guys are the best friends anyone could ask for.” Her tear-stained face took on a look of steely determination. “If I _must_ become the Queen of Hell and nothing can change that, then I can at least see to it that you remain safe. He will _not_ deny me my friends.”

She said this so fiercely that her friends backed away slightly, eyeing her nervously.

 

“Sabrina...”

 

“You'll see. If _anything_ happens to you because of this apocalypse, then he will wish he stayed in Hell!” In that moment, she looked absolutely terrifying. They half-expected to see horns protruding from her head, and suddenly it made all too much sense that she was the Devil's daughter. The effect was only dampened slightly by the dark streaks of make-up streaming down her face.

 

On the other hand, Lilith remained entirely unfazed by her antics.

“This is all very touching, but it is time to leave,” she said, though she didn't sound quite as dry as usual. With a wave of her hand, Sabrina's eyeliner was restored to its former impeccability. A second later, they were gone from her bedroom and standing in the Academy foyer.

 

Sabrina took in her surroundings, and startled when she saw where she was.

 

“What?! No, take me back! I need to say goodbye to them!” she yelled at Lilith, mentally cursing the loss of her own magical abilities. The Mother of Demons responded with an almost pitying look.

 

“Believe me, my dear, if that really _was_ goodbye then it is far easier this way.”

 

“But-” There was still so much that needed to be said, that she might never get the chance to now. She couldn't just leave them hanging like that.

 

“They are safer the less you have to do with them. Don't worry, I will continue to watch over them on your behalf. I am still their Principal, after all,” she promised, in an attempt to mollify Sabrina. “Though I suspect I shall be handing in my resignation soon,” she added as an afterthought.

 

“My aunties-” Sabrina began, wondering where on Earth they were.

 

“Waiting for you in the hall, along with your cousin and all the other guests,” Lilith answered her question before she could even finish it.

 

Sabrina slumped in disappointment. She had barely had the chance to speak with them after the incident in the clearing, for shortly afterwards was when Prudence burst in with the terrible news of what Blackwood had done to the coven. Her aunts spent the entire evening trying to save as many of the poisoned witches and warlocks as they could, and understandably had little time for Sabrina in the turmoil.

 

Still...she wished she could have at least had one small chat with them before this pivotal moment. She was in dire need of some kind of reassurance, whether it be in the form of Aunt Hilda's doting words of encouragement or Aunt Z's stern pep talks, or even Ambrose's customary jibes. Anything that could give her the sense that she wasn't about to metaphorically damn herself to Hell; metaphorically, because of course she had already done so the instant she willingly signed the Book of the Beast. But there would be no such consolation for her.

 

She was on her own.

 

“Shall we?” Lilith asked her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. All of her usual lofty shrewdness was gone, replaced with what appeared to be...an almost motherly concern. She was no longer the vengeful, power-hungry demoness in that moment, but a fellow woman.

And then Sabrina remembered she wasn't truly on her own, for she wasn't the only one who had no choice in this. She and Lilith were both victims of circumstance...and of the Dark Lord's selfish manipulations. They had both sought freedom and autonomy and yet here they were, despite their best efforts.

 

But it wasn't over yet. She had vowed she would not end up like Lilith, and that was a vow she was going to keep.

She was a Spellman; she would find a way.

She would let the Dark Lord think he had won...at least, for now. But he would get his reckoning one day and when he did, it would be at _her_ hands...not the False God's.

 

She smiled; a smile that was entirely genuine in spite of the bleak situation at hand. She stood tall and proud, it caused Lilith to wonder how or why this sudden change had come over the formerly terrified teenage girl.

 

In that moment, she truly looked like the Queen of Hell.

 

“Lead the way.”

 


	2. Throne of Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first, I want to thank everyone who has commented, kudosed, bookmarked or subscribed to this fanfic. Every bit of feedback I get, no matter how small, means everything to me so you've all made my day. Thank you :) I'm really happy so many people have read my story. I wasn't expecting anyone to like it at all.  
> Secondly, I want to apologize for taking so long to write this chapter. I'm a shamefully slow writer and this chapter ended up being way longer than I thought it would be, so much that I had to cut it short or it would have ended up being about 10,000 + words and taken forever.  
> Thirdly, I have to make an important disclaimer, that being that this fanfic is going to include a lot of speculation/stuff I've made up regarding the overall mythos of the show e.g. demons and gods. The reason I'm saying this now is because it's almost certainly going to be contradicted in future seasons (possibly as early as Sabrina taking her trip to Hell at the start of Season 3)  
> There will also be some OCs (in a way, though most of them are based in historical/mythical figures) to fill a few gaps, though I'm probably not going to be using any of them as POV characters.

The Academy of Unseen Arts had never seemed so large, so endless, so alien and unfriendly to Sabrina as it did now.

 

It had never been the most hospitable of places to begin with; not towards her, anyway. She was the half-mortal upstart who ran screaming from her own Dark Baptism, which wasn't the kind of thing a teenage witch could live down. As such her bad reputation had preceded her before she even walked through its doors, and she was a pariah among both the teachers and the students.

 

Nick had been friendly to her but she now knew he had only been acting on the Dark Lord's orders, not on his own initiative. And there had been the strange camaraderie she eventually formed with the Weird Sisters, up until they ultimately proved themselves to be fair-weather friends. It was only after her display of miraculous power that any of the other students began to treat her with respect, and even then most of them still avoided her.

 

Her lack of popularity hadn't bothered her too much at the time. She still had her mortal life to return to when she wanted, and she was more concerned with challenging the numerous injustices in the Church of Night than trying to win friends or impress her teachers.

She knew most of her rebellious actions were only alienating her further from her peers, but that didn't stop her.

She was a woman with a mission; a mission to topple the patriarchy, to break the Church from its staunch and outdated traditions, to bring equality and enlightenment to its ranks, and to make a stand against its more barbaric practices.

 

So that was what she would do, even if it involved breaking every known mortal or magical rule and blithely disregarding every warning along the way. She was Sabrina Spellman. She had never, ever done as she was told.

 

And now her defiance had cost everything.

 

Seeing the Academy as it was now made her wistfully dream of how it was before.

Most of the Greendale coven were either dead or still recovering at her aunts' house, but in their absence a number of other...creatures appeared to have moved in. All of them unique in appearance, yet identical in how incredibly monstrous they were. Each face was twisted and deformed...and that was the ones who even had faces. They all looked as though they had come straight from the pits of Hell... which just happened to be exactly where they had come from.

 

They were so horrific that she halted in her tracks to stare at them.

 

Madam Satan, noticing Sabrina was no longer behind her, also stopped and turned back to her. Following her gaze, she smiled at the sight of the abominations. It was a smile entirely lacking in humor.

 

“Lesser demons. Here to serve their masters, who are attending your coronation,” she said, in response to Sabrina's aghast expression, “You had better get accustomed to the sight of them. Once the hordes of hell are freed, there will be many more of them roaming the Earth.”

 

“Haven't the hordes already been freed?” Sabrina asked, still unable to tear her eyes away from the demonic beings in spite- or more likely, because of- their grotesqueness.

 

Lilith gave her that pitying look again. “No, dear girl. You freed the aristocracy of Hell when you blew Gabriel's horn, but they are only the tip of the iceberg. Once you and the Dark Lord have danced the Mephisto Waltz and completed the prophecy, the barriers between Hell and Earth will be shattered and all the demons, lesser and noble, will be let loose.”

 

Sabrina couldn't think of anything worse.

 

“But what about the mortals? What will happen to them when the demons are freed?” she gasped. There must be millions, possibly even billions, of demons in Hell; if they all escaped at the same time then it would be catastrophic. The mortals wouldn't know what had hit them. Any human army would likely be pulverized by the demonic forces, for what use would artillery fire be against creatures that came from the fires of Gehenna?

 

“Oh, it will be bloody at first. I won't lie to you. These creatures hunger for human flesh and blood...you see the way they look at you?”

 

Sabrina had indeed seen; she would have had to be blind not to. The demons were practically salivating as they stared back at her in longing, and it wasn't the kind of ogling she was used to receiving from males. As much as she loathed to admit it, this managed to be worse.

 

“A lovely virgin such as yourself must be the most delectable thing any of them have seen in a millennia...fortunately for you, they know their Queen is off-limits. Don't expect them to hold back when it comes to the rest of your kind. When Hell's masses reach the surface, they will feast like they've never done before.”

 

She paused for a second, allowing the full impact of this grisly truth to sink in.

 

“But despair not. Once some semblance of order has been restored, humanity will endure. It would do no good to the Dark Lord's plans if all mortals were wiped out. But he will have no qualms about trimming the population, particularly considering how overcrowded the world is now.”

 

Sabrina didn't know what was worse; what Lilith was telling her or the nonchalant, matter-of-fact way in which she was saying it. She may have reiterated to Harvey, Roz and Theo earlier that his plans were to enslave humanity, not destroy it. But she had been unable to truly comprehend what that would nevertheless mean. The human race might survive but a significant portion of it would die in the process, and each and every death would be a tragedy. Not just a statistic, which was how Lilith seemed to be viewing it.

 

“You are sick in the brain. How can you tell me all this and not care?! Billions of innocent people are going to die horrible gruesome deaths, thanks to us! Thanks to _you!_ ” she snapped at Lilith, despite knowing full well that she wasn't the one truly responsible. She just needed to take her anger out on someone, and the demoness was the most valid target available.

 

Lilith took it in stride.

 

“And what would you like me to do about it? Cry?” She tittered at this.“What good would my tears be to your poor fellow humans? Contrary to what you may think, I don't see them all as food the way some of my children do. Well, not _all_ humans, anyway. I used to be one, after all...even if it was such a long time ago.”

 

Children? _Oh, yes. Lilith is the Mother of Demons_ , Sabrina remembered.

She never thought that title was meant to be literal, but she supposed all of those demons must have come from somewhere. She wanted to ask her whether all demons were her offspring or only some of them, and if so then which ones they were, but she was also still angry and didn't want to speak to her.

 

With a death glare and a toss of her silvery curls, she walked on. Lilith smiled wryly.

 

More demons flanked them every step of the way, some of them also leering and others peering at her with obvious curiosity. They really were awful to look at. If she hadn't already come face-to-face with her fair share of monsters, their faces would have been enough to give her nightmares.

 

She couldn't help but wonder; if this was how the lesser demons looked then how terrifying would the aristocracy of Hell prove to be?

 

Not that she was _scared_ , of course...

 

That was a lie too.

 

She was more terrified than she had ever been in her life. But she was not about to let anyone know that; least of all _him_.

 

“Well, here we are,” said Lilith, once they reached the doors to the hall. She regarded Sabrina expectantly. “It's your turn to lead the way, my dear.”

 

Sabrina simply nodded her assent, pulling her expression into one of impassivity once more. She willed herself to be as cold and unrelenting as Damascus steel, for she knew she couldn't display any fear before the legions of Hell. She would not be giving any of them reason to look down on her.

 

With the wave of Lilith's hand, the doors opened for them. Now feeling like she was walking towards her own execution, Sabrina entered, with Lilith following closely after. Her position reminded Sabrina inexplicably of a maid of honor following a bride, despite the fact that this was no wedding...at least, she prayed it wasn't.

 

As she descended the staircase, she surveyed the hall to see what she was going to be dealing with. From where she was, the demons looked considerably less demonic than she expected; certainly nowhere near as frightening as the ones she had seen so far.

Perhaps the more powerful they were, the more human they were able to make themselves appear. Seeing their king revert to his original angelic form might have caused them to try and imitate him.

 

And speaking of the Devil...

 

There he was. Lucifer Morningstar, Satan, the Dark Lord; on the far side of the room, lounging on his throne and looking extremely pleased with himself.

 

And to be fair, he had every right to be. He had won. He was on the verge of achieving domination over the Earth with no one left to stop him, the False God having apparently decided to turn a blind eye to what was going on in the world below.

He had managed to regain his angelic form, which surely fuelled his immense pride and vanity even more, if such a thing was possible.

And now he would have her too, to serve as his perfect little trophy.

 

All in all, he had a lot to celebrate tonight.

 

He had certainly dressed for the occasion, in a golden doublet that matched her own gown. If the situation hadn't been so serious, she would have rolled her eyes. For someone referred to as the Dark Lord, he had a very garish taste in fashion.

 

She would never admit he was easily handsome enough to pull off said-fashion magnificently.

 

His gray eyes were on her as she made her way across the hall, and despite his relaxed posture and deceptive smile, there was a burning intensity in them. She wanted to look away but she kept her eye contact, forcing a smirk onto her own face.

 

_Don't back down._

 

His wasn't the only intense gaze. She could feel the eyes of all the demons boring into her; probably appraising their soon-to-be queen and speculating over why the Dark Lord had chosen her instead of Lilith. Or perhaps like the lesser demons, they just wanted to eat her. Either way, it gave her an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of her stomach.

 

She didn't spare any of them a glimpse, determined to hold her eye contact with Lucifer at least until she reached him. The room wasn't big, but the walk across it seemed to take forever.

As she approached the throne, he rose to his feet and covered the rest of the distance between them. With what seemed to be an almost mockingly gentlemanly manner, he held out his arm for her to take.

 

She wanted to slap it away, tell him there was no way she was going through with his evil plans, and flee from the coronation just like how she did from her Dark Baptism.

 

But what she wanted was out of the question. He had made it very, very clear earlier on what would happen if she defied him again. She knew Ambrose, Zelda and Hilda were somewhere among the crowd, surrounded by Lucifer's demons, and if he gave the order then they would be killed in a heartbeat.

 

She had no choice but to obey him. To submit.

 

Still taking care not to betray any of her inner turmoil, she placed her hand over his and let him lead her over to her own throne. It was similar to the one Prudence had sat in the year before, when she had been pronounced Queen of the Feast. She wondered what her frenemy would think of her being crowned Queen of Hell; would she be jealous or scornful? She didn't know if Prudence was among the attendees, as she still hadn't fully taken them in.

 

Only once she was seated on the throne, did she chance a glance.

 

Now she was closer to them, she could see that the demonic aristocracy were more daunting then they initially seemed. Some of them were outright hideous like the Plague Kings had been (she was relieved to see those three weren't among the guests).

Most of them weren't ugly, however; in fact, many of them were beautiful. Yet there was something...off about them, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. They looked human, but not really human enough.

Perhaps if they were on their own they might have been able to pass, but when standing next to the few Greendale coven members present, it became obvious that they were an entirely different species.

 

She recognized Melvin and Elspeth among the humans, as well as Dorcas and Agatha, but there was no sign of Prudence. The two Sisters looked oddly lonely and out of place without her. She presumed they had managed to recover from their poisoning and hadn't wanted to miss out on such an important event, but if their petrified faces were anything to go by then they were probably wishing they stayed at home.

 

She wasn't particularly concerned with the Weird Sisters though. They weren't who she was looking for.

 

She wanted to see her aunties, her cousin Ambrose. When she looked to her left, she found them. She had been so focused on staring down the Dark Lord that she hadn't noticed they were standing beside her throne in what was probably supposed to look like a place of honor.

 

She suffered no illusions as to why they were really there. If she so much as showed any indication that she was about to go against him, they would be on the chopping block. She couldn't let that happen.

 

And they knew she wouldn't, something that must be extremely discouraging for them after their attempts to protect her. The three of them stood in silence, looking more miserable than she had ever seen them.

Ambrose seemed entirely resigned, Aunt Hilda was close to tears and Aunt Zelda looked near murderous, her green eyes blazing as she glared at the Dark Lord. If looks could kill, she would have solved the problem by now. As it was, she could only stand there and watch her beloved niece be snatched from her, all the while bubbling with fury she was unable to express.

 

It was amazing what a difference a day made. It hadn't been to long ago that her aunt had been telling her she had to do whatever the Dark Lord asked, including murder, and while Hilda had never been quite so fanatical, she too had considered him to be some kind of god. But when they had discovered what he was planning to do with their niece, they had abandoned him for her sake, putting her safety and happiness before their life-long beliefs. That wasn't something every family was prepared to do.

 

 _Her_ family- for that was what they were, more so than the Dark Lord would ever be- had _always_ put her first, protected her, and looked out for her best interests rather than their own. Now it was up to her to do the same for them.

 

The crowning ceremony itself was short and to the point, and it passed in a haze to Sabrina. She found that the easiest way to maintain her facade of confidence and not break down then and there, was to pretend that this wasn't really happening.

She was barely aware of Lilith handing the crown to Lucifer. It was an immense behemoth of a piece, made out of solid gold forged to form the shape of bones. It was an eyesore to Sabrina, though she hadn't expected the Crown of Hell to be dainty.

 

Yet when he placed it on her head, it was strangely weightless; presumably it had been enchanted in some way to make it more comfortable to wear. Regardless, it weighed heavily on her soul. She didn't want the crown, she didn't want the throne, nor the coronation, nor any of it.

 

It should all be going to Lilith instead. At least she actually _did_ want it. But as usual, the Dark Lord was the only one getting what he wanted here.

 

And he knew it all too well. She could practically feel the smugness rolling off him as he took her hand and pulled her to her feet again, smirking at the sight of her shell-shocked expression.

The sound of applause from the demonic onlookers was almost deafening. She was only dimly aware of it over the ringing in her ears, and the sound of her own thoughts of regret.

 

Once the noise had died down, Lucifer addressed the legions with a small speech...that he had probably been planning ever since she was born; possibly even before.

 

“My fiends and friends! Tonight, I present to thee my firstborn. Sabrina Morningstar; Proud Lady of Pandemonium, Maiden of Shadows and Queen of Hell! Hail Sabrina!”

 

“Hail Sabrina! Hail Satan!” The crowd echoed, before breaking into riotous applause once more.

 

It was all too surreal. She had been treated with contempt by the magical world for most of her life, and now this room filled with Hell's most esteemed demons was venerating her. If this had come about under any different circumstances, she might have been triumphant.

 

As it was, she could feel no triumph now...only defeat.

 

The deed was done, and she was Queen of Hell. Up until a few months ago, she had just been an ordinary teen girl; a girl who attended an ordinary mortal school, had several ordinary mortal friends, and was dating a cute but rather ordinary mortal boy whom she loved. Her life had been as ordinary as it could be for someone raised by two witch aunties and a warlock cousin as part of a Satanic cult.

 

But now everything had changed, forever. She could never go back to her mortal life; that part of her world was lost to her. The very thing she had been dreading would happen after signing her name in the Book had happened. She had been wrong about so many things, but she knew now that she had been entirely right to be afraid on the fateful night of her 16th birthday.

 

This, however, went beyond even her wild imagination. If she had known back then it would end up coming to this, she would never have stepped into those woods in the first place.

 

“And now, my queen, we shall dance as father and daughter, to the Mephisto Waltz.”

 

The Mephisto Waltz. Oh...of course. She still had an opportunity to rebel, if she dared to. The forces of Hell wouldn't be fully unleashed on the world until the dance was finished. If she refused now, then she still might be able to stop the prophecy from being completed. And if she went through with it, wouldn't that mean she herself was responsible for the calamity that ensued?

 

He apparently sensed her second of hesitation. His expression never changed, but his hand immediately tightened on hers and he leaned in closer to her.

 

“Sabrina...”

 

His voice was barely audible but held a definite warning tone, and his eyes flickered over to where her family stood anxiously watching the two of them. The message could not be more obvious.

 

She knew that in the grand scheme of things, she was being selfish. Had it only been her own life at stake and not theirs, then nothing would have stopped her from making a stand to defend the world from the Dark Lord. But right now, she cared more about the people she loved than she did about the world, and so she knew her only real option was to comply.

 

Taking his other hand, she allowed him to lead her into the dance as the piano started to play. She had never heard the Mephisto Waltz before, or at least not this variation of it, but it was a surprisingly pleasant tune for one that was going to be the catalyst for so much disaster.

It was said the composer had sold his soul to the Dark Lord in exchange for the ability to write such a masterpiece. Had he been aware of the evil purpose his song would one day be used for? She knew she would never even be able to listen to it again.

 

The ballroom became nothing more than a blur to her. Her building anxiety made her too light-headed and lethargic to truly focus on the steps she was taking, only being able to follow his lead...which was probably how he preferred it.

Come to think of it, their entire relationship could probably be summed up that way. _The champion of free will...what a joke._ He had never given her a choice in anything.

 

She let out a sharp intake of breath when he twirled her on the spot and then pulled her in again, closer to him.

 

“There. Isn't that so much better than trying to kill me?” he crooned in her ear.

 

_Still not out of the question._

 

She wasn't stupid enough to voice that last thought, but her silence spoke for her. He seemed to find her muteness somewhat amusing, if his continued smirk was any indication.

 

“Sabrina, Sabrina...I know there has been a lot of bad blood between us in the past, and you still remain unconvinced of your purpose. But in time, you will come to understand that this is the only conceivable path for you.”

 

She frowned in disagreement but still said nothing, and he tsked at her.

 

“Enough of that. You see, Sabrina, you may deny it to yourself and everyone else all you want...but there is no hiding the truth. That truth being that you simply _burn_ with the want for power-”

 

Another turn.

 

“-and there's no shame in that, my daughter. You have always wished to change the world, have you not? You have always wanted to make a _difference_. And you've tried; with all your secret clubs, your futile campaigns for minor positions of authority, your various experimentations, and your constant acts of rebellion...but nothing has ever been quite enough for you, and nothing ever would have been.

Because your destiny was always far, far greater than that. As a mortal, you would have barely cast a shadow in history. As a witch, your legacy would have been controversial at best. But as my queen, you will be able to accomplish everything you have always aimed for, and more.”

 

He wasn't entirely wrong, Sabrina mused, but his logic was nonetheless flawed. Of course she had always wanted to change the world...for the better. _His_ vision for the world involved making it much, much worse. Not to mention that as Queen of Hell, she could have all the power, influence and status that she wanted but she would still always have to be subservient to him. What with both their goals and values being so fundamentally incompatible, such an arrangement could never work.

 

Sensing that she was still doubtful, he changed tactics.

 

“Now, Sabrina...is it really so bad? You and I aren't so unalike, after all. I see a lot of myself in you, and I want what is best for your future. I don't only intend to give you power, but love and happiness too. As my daughter and queen, you will want for nothing. Everything you desire shall be yours.”

 

She latched onto that last statement like a blood-starved leech.

 

“Everything?”

She knew he was either lying or deluded. She wanted the world to be safe. She wanted to be free to choose her own path in life. She wanted him to stop terrorizing humanity. He would never grant her any of those desires, because they completely conflicted with his own.

But she hadn't forgotten the promise she made to Harvey, Roz and Theo earlier, and now he had presented her with the perfect opening to make good on it.

 

“And now she speaks. Yes, little one. Everything. Just tell me what you desire.”

 

Sabrina fixed him with an intense gaze to rival his.

 

“Greendale. Give me Greendale, for my own.”

If he wouldn't grant her this, then she would know he was all talk.

 

Lucifer looked surprised by her request for a second, but he nodded in understanding.

 

“Ah, yes. You do care for your mortal pets, don't you? Then you shall have them.”

 

While she wouldn't say the weight had been removed from her heart, the burden was eased a little. Even if nothing else good came out of her being crowned Queen of Hell, at least her hometown would remain standing and her friends would be protected. That counted for something.

 

“So...so no one in Greendale will be harmed?” She needed to clarify that, first and foremost.

 

“You have my word. When the demonic hordes are freed, they will leave Greendale in peace. The town will be protected on my orders,” he assured her.

 

“And you're sure the demons will listen to you?”

 

She knew it had been entirely the wrong thing to say when his expression immediately darkened.

 

“The hordes are like a hive mind; footsoldiers created from the souls of the damned to do my bidding. Most of them are incapable of independent thought. I give them free reign when it suits me, but if I or one of my generals order them to do something, they will obey without question. _If_ I tell them to leave Greendale alone, they _will_ leave Greendale alone. I have full control over the forces of Hell, and you would do well to remember that."

His voice was still calm but held a definite iciness she hadn't heard in any of their previous conversations.

 

Sabrina shivered in his hold. She realized she had crossed some invisible line she hadn't done before, not even when she tried to kill him. Her inquiry had been sincere, not intended as a jibe; but she should have realized someone as proud and egoistic as him would take it as such.

 

_Stupid. Now you've done it._

 

However, his demeanour softened slightly again when he saw her obvious fear of him.

 

“I will forgive your impudence this time, little one, as you are new to this game. But in future, it would be most unwise to doubt my authority. _Especially_ in public.”

 

“Of- of course not. I didn't mean- I'm sorry, Dark Lord,” she whispered, blinking back tears.

 

She hated having to apologize to him. She _was_ sorry, but her remorse was not towards him and her fear wasn't for herself.

She was mentally kicking herself for asking such a provocative question. Had she ruined everything? Would he now change his mind about giving Greendale to her, thanks to her lack of tact? Had she just blown her one chance to protect her town from the oncoming apocalypse that would be occurring...

 

...Around about now?

 

For the Mephisto Waltz had reached its chilling conclusion.

 

She startled at the sudden sound of applause from the guests, having become so caught up in the dance and their conversation that she nearly forgot their existence. She took them in again, truly studied their faces, and wondered how she could have ever thought the demons looked human.

Right now, in their bloodthirsty eagerness, they looked like exactly what they were.

 

Tugging Sabrina to his side, the Dark Lord addressed the minions with another speech.

 

“Fiends and friends! The moment we have all been waiting for is now upon us. With the fulfilment of my prophecy, we will usher in the Era of the Morningstar. The Earth shall be remade in Hell's image. Humanity will learn its true place, far beneath us. The False God and all who continue to follow him will be cast into the inferno, and we will reign as the gods of this new world!”

 

More cheers. She noticed the Greendale coven members weren't joining in. In fact, most of them looked like they were seriously contemplating running for the door.

She chanced another glance over at her family, watching her with despair, and Lilith, who still stood next to the Dark Lord's throne and was staring at Sabrina's crown with deepest longing. As far as Sabrina was concerned, she could take it.

 

“On the morrow, we will launch our attack on humanity and complete our domination of the world. But tonight, we will celebrate! Drink, feast, and revel in debauchery to your hearts' content! And let us once again hail Sabrina, the newly crowned Queen of Hell, without whom none of this would have been possible!”

 

_Ouch._

 

She wasn't sure if that was intended to be a genuine accolade, or a thinly veiled jab at her own failure to stop him. Either way, she could have done without it. Frozen in place in the horrifying realization of what was occurring at this very moment, she had to be half-dragged back to her throne.

 

None of the demon guests seemed to notice her discomfort. Once they had finished applauding her (which went on for a while), they all split up into pairs and headed out onto the floor as a new song she didn't recognize started to play.

She never imagined that demons would be into this sort of thing, but she suspected nothing could surprise her any more.

 

She and the Dark Lord took their places on their thrones, and it was all she could do not to flinch away when he took her hand again. She was sure he could easily crush it in his strong grip if he so wished.  Luckily he didn't.

 

“Well done, my queen. You have played your part well. Fear not, I haven't forgotten my promise to you,” he told her, with what she might have mistaken for affection if she didn't know any better.

 

Promise?

 

“Greendale will be yours to keep. Consider it a...coronation gift, as such.”

 

Had she still been standing, she might have collapsed in relief. Dazed, she watched as he summoned two of the more attractive female demons and issued the orders to them.

 

“Eistheth, Naamah. The town of Greendale must be secured. Let it be known to all the hordes that it is off-limits to them, and no damage must be inflicted on either the town or its residents.”

 

If Eistheth and Naamah were disappointed to be pulled away from the festivities, they evidently didn't dare show it. Both demonesses dropped into deep curtsies.

 

“At once, Dark Lord,” they murmured in unison, before vanishing.

 

“Now, what do you say?” he asked Sabrina, as though she were a child he had just given candy to.

 

“Thank you, Dark Lord.” She was barely able to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but hated herself for even saying it. She knew she'd hit rock bottom when she was being forced to thank the source of all evil for not destroying her hometown.

 

He, on the other hand, was absolutely loving it.

 

“You see? Isn't it so much easier when you just co-operate with me? I can be a man of mercy when I'm given good reason to be,” he gloated, tracing the back of her hand with his thumb.

 

Sabrina quickly exchanged glances with her aunties, who were still standing within earshot but clearly didn't dare speak to her in his presence. Even Zelda, as devout as she was, had never named “mercy” as one of the Dark Lord's attributes.

More than anything right now, she wanted to be able to speak to them, in private, without having to worry about Lucifer listening in on their conversation. At the very least, she needed to thank them for trying to defend her...even if their attempts had ultimately been in vain.

 

But much to her dismay, he showed absolutely no indication that he was thinking of letting go of her hand any time soon, never mind leaving her side and giving her the opportunity she needed. She was still trying to think of a way to divert him when a hell-send appeared, in the form of Lilith.

 

Approaching the throne, she knelt before him.

 

“My Lord, I was wondering-, that is to say, I would be most honored- if you would be willing to indulge me in a dance?” she purred, peering up at him through her eyelashes in a flirtatious manner, though Sabrina wasn't sure how genuine it was.

In any case, Lucifer appeared to fall for it.

 

“My lovely Lilith, you know I could never turn down such a tempting offer,” he said in fondness, turning to Sabrina inquiringly. “I take it my queen has no objections?”

 

As if she could care less. Even if she did, it wasn't as though _he_ would care that she cared.

 

“Sure, go ahead.” She shrugged, before adding “Dark Lord.” She figured it was expected of her.

 

To her utter mortification, he brought her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on it, before finally letting go. He took Lilith's hand instead and led her out onto the floor, leaving Sabrina in a state of shock.

 

_What the heaven just happened?_

 

The back of her hand burned where he had kissed it, albeit not in a painful way, and her mind was filled with a dense fog. As she watched the two of them walk away, she saw Lilith look over her shoulder and give her a wink, a small action that brought her back to her senses.

 

Oh. _Now_ she understood. And while Madame Satan had a long way to go before she could fully make up for everything she had done, this was a step in the right direction.

 

“Sabrina!”

 

Her family wasted no time in rushing to her side. She finally looked at them properly, tears pooling in her eyes as she took them in.

It had only been a few hours since she last spoke to them, but it felt like several months. She hadn't known if she would even get the chance again; whether she would inadvertently end up angering Lucifer enough for him to follow through on his threat, or whether he would kill them anyway out of spite.

 

“Aunties...Ambrose...” she breathed, longing to throw her arms around them, but knowing that doing so would attract way too much attention from onlookers. She had to maintain her distance from them, as much as it pained her.

 

“How come you were already here and not tending to the coven? Did something happen?”

 

“Lilith-,” Zelda said the name as though it were a particularly vulgar word, “-dropped by and told us the Dark Lord wanted us to wait here. Apparently he believed we might be plotting against him again, stirring up dissent among the coven or whatnot.”

 

“Not without reason,” Ambrose added.

 

“We wanted to see you, my love,” wept Aunt Hilda, wiping her own falling tears away, “We wanted to be beside you when you...when you faced him again. You were so brave, darling. We- we're so proud of you...”

 

“Aunties...” Sabrina didn't know what to say and that was a first.

 

“So, excluding the fact that the Earth is about to be transformed into a literal Hell on Earth and you're now the Queen of it all, how are you coping? All thing's considered?” Ambrose asked her.

 

She wasn't fooled for one second by his light-hearted manner. He, like her aunties, was worried sick for her but didn't want to make her feel worse than she already did, and she appreciated that.

 

“All things considered, I'm pretty good,” she admitted, realizing it was the truth. She was still bitterly disappointed by her failure to stop the Dark Lord, but the relief of seeing her family alive and being able to protect Greendale had mitigated her sorrow somewhat.

That, and perhaps the full weight of her dilemma just hadn't sunk in yet.

 

Her family weren't consoled in the slightest by her confession. Hilda dissolved into a fresh stream of tears, while Zelda's lower lip trembled.

 

“Oh, Sabrina...you are a strong, brave woman. You _will_ get through this.” She quickly regained her composure, eyes flashing dangerously as she continued, “And mark my words, the Dark Lord will rue the day he ever decided to trifle with the Spellmans.”

 

Sabrina managed a faint smile in spite of herself. “To think you used to be his most devout worshipper.” She still couldn't help but marvel at how her Aunt had gone from the most obsessive of the Dark Lord's followers to plunging a dagger in his back, all to protect her.

 

Zelda grimaced at the mere mention of her former devotion.

 

“ _That_ is water under the bridge now. It ended the moment he set his sights on you.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I'm sorry, Sabrina. We swore we would not let him take you, but we have failed you.”

 

Sabrina flinched at these defeatist words. She never thought she would hear her proud, self-assured Aunt Zelda putting herself down in such a way, and it was enough to make her realize how in over her head she was.

 

“Don't say that, Aunt Zee! You've never failed at anything. You did what you could; you _all_ did. I was the one who fulfilled this stupid prophecy, and you warned me against it all the way. But now _you_ need to be careful. I can't lose you.”

 

“If he thinks he can hold that threat over your head-” Zelda began loftily, but Sabrina cut across her.

 

“He _knows_ he can, because he knows how much I care for you. And if it wasn't you then it would be someone else. Salem or even Harvey, Roz or Theo.”

 

“But your mortal friends will be OK, won't they? You were able to get him to protect Greendale, so that's something, isn't it?” said Hilda, in what were probably the best words of encouragement she could muster.

 

“Greendale won't be raised to the ground. But it will still be enslaved, and so will the coven.”

 

Sabrina looked out into the crowd. Some of the witches and warlocks were still milling about, looking uncertain of what to do or how they had gotten there. Others had apparently decided to try making the best of the situation and joined the Aristocracy in the festivities. Melvin and Dorcas were dancing together nearby, arms entwined, and Agatha had managed to find herself a good-looking male demon to partner with. Their Sister's absence stood out.

 

“Where's Prudence?” she asked, sure someone like her wouldn't have wanted to miss out on this.

 

“Hiding. Her weak, cowardly excuse of a father decided to poison the entire coven rather than bow to you, for Satan' sake. She is better off staying well out of the Dark Lord's sight until we can clear her name.” Zelda's voice dripped with venom as she spoke of her husband.

 

“We don't know if he'll be willing to listen to reason though,” said Ambrose, his built-up anger and worry starting to seep through.

 

If there was anyone Sabrina hated more than the Dark Lord now, it was Faustus Blackwood. She may have never gotten along with her fellow coven members, but it was tragic to see what he had done to them.

Here she was, thinking she was so unfortunate when the entire coven had nearly been wiped out. What had been a proud and thriving community would now be a shadow of its former self, thanks to the incredible pettiness of their high priest.

That evil man. That disgusting, cruel, misogynistic b-

 

If she had no choice but to embrace her role as Queen of Hell, then she should demand that hunting him down and ending his miserable life became a top priority for her new subjects.

 

She cringed the moment that rogue thought crossed her mind. She wasn't accepting her fate already, was she? No...but if she was looking for a silver-lining, that was it.

 

“Blackwood is the only one to blame. I'll speak to the Dark Lord, I'll try to make him understand that she had nothing to do with it,” she assured Ambrose, hoping that would be possible. It might be pushing her luck after he already agreed to give her Greendale, but since there was nothing else she could do...

 

Unless, of course, there was.

 

She cast a look over to where Lucifer and Lilith were still dancing, wondering how acute the Dark Lord's hearing was. She knew he wasn't omnipotent or omniscient like the False God was said to be, but she still had no idea what the true extent of his powers were. She lowered her voice to a whisper.

 

“I don't know when I'll get the chance, but I need to speak to you properly. Alone. I think...” Another nervous glance in his direction. “I think I might have a plan. But I can't tell you now, it's too dangerous.”

 

Ambrose raised an eyebrow. “Trust you, cousin.”

 

“Are- are you quite sure, my love?” Hilda asked, looking quite terrified at the thought of what her niece might be planning. Not without good reason either, for Sabrina had never been less sure about anything.

 

“It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, we'll take it,” snapped Zelda. “He _must_ let us have a proper meeting with you. We raised you, for Hell's sake! And a lifetime's worth of dedication should count for _something_ to him.”

 

“Well, you and Aunt Hilda did stab him in the back earlier-” Ambrose chimed in helpfully.

 

“A simple misunderstanding; a crime of passion brought on by paranoia. We've fully returned to our senses now, of course, and stand with him. We are so incredibly proud, and so very honored, that he has chosen our niece to be his queen.”

 

“...Nope. Not convincing.”

 

“Really, Ambrose-”

 

“Shh!” Sabrina hissed, panicked at the thought that the Dark Lord or one of the other demons might overhear Zelda and Ambrose's conspiring. She scanned around them again, though most of the demons were busy dancing and hopefully out of earshot. She didn't want to take any risks though. “I said we can't talk about this here! Later, OK?”

 

“How much later? Has it occurred to you that he might intend to-”

 

“Zelda!”

 

They all stared at Hilda, who had broken her silence. She flushed, bashful about taking such a sharp tone with her big sister but standing her ground nonetheless.

 

“Zels, I think things are bad enough already without you piling the pressure on poor Sabrina. Let her decide in her own time what she wants to do.”

 

For a second, Sabrina thought Zelda was going to kill Hilda yet again. Much to her surprise however, she relented.

 

“You're right, Hilda. We need to support each other if we're going to weather this storm. Sabrina, I understand that this is ultimately your decision to make, and I won't try to force your hand.”

 

She felt a rush of gratitude towards Hilda for placating Zelda. She had a sneaky suspicion about what she had been about to bring up, and it wasn't something she wanted to discuss, especially not with them. And while it warmed her heart that her aunt was indeed so keen on defeating the Dark Lord to protect her, she was still more concerned with her family's survival than being a hero.

 

“Aunties, Ambrose...thank you.” She looked to each of them, her brown eyes still gleaming with tears. “I promise you, I haven't given up. I won't rest until I end his rule and undo the damage I've done, even if I have to personally drag him back to Hell myself.”

 

“ _Back_ to Hell?” A soft, unnaturally sweet and child-like voice cut in.

 

The four of them leapt about a foot in the air, looking around to see who had been eavesdropping on them.

 

It was a young girl with long, wild red hair...or rather, a demon taking on the form of a young girl. She had been sitting right beside them the whole time, obscured behind one of the decorative draperies.

Now she was peeking out at them with eyes that were unnaturally deep and black, like dark pits in her otherwise pretty, youthful face. She held the appearance of being in her early teens, but they knew this was no child. This creature was probably more ancient than the four of them put together.

 

“You don't need to drag anybody back to Hell. Hell is already here.” She giggled, baring unnaturally sharp incisors before disappearing from view again.

 

The Spellmans exchanged panicked looks, wondering if the demoness was planning on reporting everything she heard back to the Dark Lord.

 

This worry was soon pushed from their minds, however. As though it had been waiting for some kind of cue, that was the moment all Hell broke loose.

 

Literally.

 

It started out as a distinct rumbling in the distance, barely noticeable at first, but soon they could feel it too. The tremor built up beneath their feet until the floor was shaking like the building had been hit by an earthquake. Sabrina gripped the sides of her throne to steady herself.

 

An explosive flash of lightning cracked overhead, illuminating the entire hall with a blue glow as bright as hellfire.

 

Bizarre indeed, considering the room didn't have any windows.

 

Several of the witches screamed. Dorcas fainted and Melvin caught her, despite looking like he was on the verge of passing out himself. Agatha let go of her partner and backed away from him, likely rethinking all her life decisions, while Elspeth cowered on the floor, sobbing into her hands.

All the while, the demons were howling with laughter at the humans' terror. Evidently, they had been waiting for this.

 

It was pandemonium...which Sabrina supposed was only fitting, considering her new title.

 

Then as quickly as it had begun, the earthquake stopped. Everything went still again. The shocked humans picked themselves off the floor and the demons, snickering among themselves, went back to their celebrating as though nothing happened.

 

But she knew better. The ground was no longer shaking, yet something in the atmosphere had changed and not for the better. A heavy, pungent aura hung in the air, one that could cause dread in the heart of all living creatures; the sense of impending doom.

 

“Wh- what the heaven was that?” she asked her aunties, her nails digging into the throne's cold surface so hard that they were starting to snap.

 

“Not Heaven; Hell.” The color drained from Zelda's face, and she placed her protective hands on her niece's shoulders. “It has happened. The barriers between Hell and Earth have been broken down, and the hordes are unleashed.”

 

“So that means...”

 

“Hell's forces are laying waste to the mortal world as we speak.” No amount of gentleness in Zelda's tone could ease the brutality of her words, which left Sabrina paralyzed with horror and guilt.

 

The reality of her situation, that she had been trying so hard to block out before, had now fully dawned on her. The apocalypse was here, she had caused it, and it would be etched onto her conscious for the rest of her life; for the rest of eternity. She had brought about the destruction of the world, and it was her destiny to rule over the ashes, alongside the fallen angel who called himself her father.

 

Her eyes sought him out; the Dark Lord, her King, her enemy who brought her to this point. Brown eyes met gray, and he gave her that insufferable smirk, knowing he had won.

 

Sabrina was the first to look away. She couldn't stand the sight of him any longer. How could he happily dance with Lilith like he didn't have the blood of countless innocents on his hands? Like he hadn't used her, his own daughter, as a pawn in his vile schemes? As though he hadn't used and manipulated the woman he was currently dancing with, promising her the world and then betraying her too?

 

In the end, it all meant nothing to him.

 

He was a monster. He was the Devil, wearing the face of an angel. He was the Father of Lies, and all his lies had paid off.

 

The Damnation Game had begun in earnest, and now it had ended.

 

And he had won.

 

For now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of that whole chapter, I actually struggled the most at writing the scene where she spoke to her aunties and Ambrose. I think it's because they have such a strong dynamic in canon and it's hard to live up to that when writing it in fanfic. On the other hand, I had a lot of fun writing her exchange with the Dark Lord. 😜 I love those two. Well, that's why I'm writing this after all.  
> It's not all going to be pleasant though and things are probably taking a turn for the darker next chapter, so you have been warned.


	3. Fallen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so writing this chapter was a doozy. I can't believe I originally meant for it to be of part of Chapter 2. 
> 
> A quick reminder of the warning tags for this fic. Things get extremely screwed-up this chapter, and I understand that I'm probably going to lose readers over it. As I said before, nothing is graphic but it might still be triggering so discretion is advised. I think it also goes without saying that I don't condone any of this shit in real life.
> 
> I'm sorry it took so much time for me to get this out. Over a month :( I'll try to do better next time. Thank you again to everyone who has kudoed, reviewed, subscribed or bookmarked! :D

_It was the night the ground split wide open._

 

_Smoke rose from the Earth's cracked surface, turning the sky black, and sparks flew into the air from the raging inferno below._

 

_From the newly-created chasms crawled an all-matter of horrific creatures, the likes of which had never walked the Earth before._

 

_No man, woman or child was spared in the ensuing bloodbath._

 

_The streets of every city were transformed into rivers of crimson that mirrored those in Hell as the souls of the dead feasted on the flesh of the living._

 

_Humans ran for sanctuary, desperately seeking out any safe haven they could find from the waking nightmare they were in._

 

_They ran to take up their weapons, which were barely enough to cause a dent in the ranks of the supernatural army._

 

_They ran for their homes, where they barred their doors and tried to hide, with little success._

 

_They ran for the churches of the False God, where they cowered and grovelled at His altar._

 

_It was preached to them that the End Days had finally come, and the False God would deliver them from this unrelenting Evil if they showed faith in Him._

 

_But the preachers were only half-correct._

 

_The End Days had indeed come._

 

_But the False God would be of no help, for none of His children were perfect enough for Him to save._

 

_Their last hope for mercy was the Queen of Hell Herself._

 

* * *

 

“Sabrina Morningstar.”

 

“Dark Lady.”

 

“Queen Sabrina.”

 

The stream of reverence seemed endless, as each of the demon aristocracy stepped forward to bow before her and offer their allegiance. She sat impassively by the Dark Lord's side, at the banquet table, trying her best to appear noble and imposing when in reality she had never been more out of her depth. She wore the crown and golden gown, but felt more like a child playing dress-up than a true queen.

 

Yet these were feelings she knew she must conceal.

 

She was surrounded by enemies here. All eyes in the hall were on her and while the Aristocracy of Hell were putting on a convincing show of sucking up to her, she could imagine that many of them must be furious at having to bow to a human teenager. Remembering her encounter with the three Plague Kings and what they had told her, she suspected the Dark Lord's choice of queen had been a controversial one. And while she was more against his decision than any of them, she was _not_ going to let them look down on her.

 

If she had to be their queen, then they sure as heaven would show her the respect she was owed!

 

She took a swig of wine from her jewelled pentagram goblet, and suspected she would be clearing several bottles' worth by the time the night was over. She knew it was a bad idea; in a precarious situation like this, it was wiser to keep a level head. She could already see Aunt Zelda shaking her head at her from across the room, on the table that she and Hilda were seated on.

 

Just like at the coronation, they were close enough for her to keep them in her sight and remember just what she had to lose, but too far to lend her their support. As for Ambrose, she hadn't seen him since the ball, which didn't bode well.

 

Right now, alcohol was her only friend.

 

An all-too familiar demon stepped forward; the black-eyed redhead who had been eavesdropping on her and her family earlier. Sabrina's heart skipped a beat as she wondered whether she was about to blab everything to Lucifer, but the demoness only shot her a secretive smile.

While she prostrated herself before them, she noticed the girl's small hands and bare feet were covered with shimmering, almost translucent scales and deduced that she must be some kind of reptile demon; probably a naga using a glamor to masquerade as a humanoid figure.

 

She glanced down at the long list of names and titles in front of her that Lilith handed her before the banquet.

 

“Lamia, Sly Lady of Serpents,” she acknowledged, with a customary nod of her head. She had heard of Lamia before, having read about her in the Demonomicon. It described her as a hideous monster with a snakelike body and a penchant for eating children.

 

This small girl...wasn't exactly what she had imagined. Though she was still creepy.

 

“Queen Sabrina.” Lamia smiled, baring those frighteningly sharp teeth at her, before turning to the Dark Lord and bowing her head again. “Dark Lord.”

 

“Lamia, it is good to finally see you. I was starting to worry that Lilith had banished you back to Hell,” the Dark Lord chuckled, though Sabrina wasn't sure what was so funny. Evidently Lamia did, however, if her shrill laugh was anything to go by.

 

“Oh, but why would she ever do that, my Lord? Mother wanted me here by her side, because I'm her favorite daughter!”

Not only was her babyish voice obnoxious, but there was something incredibly disturbing about hearing it coming out of a creature with such soulless dark eyes. Her smile widened as she turned those black eyes towards Lilith. “Aren't I, Mother?”

 

Lilith's stony expression and silence suggested she was far from it.

 

“Then how fortunate you two are going to be working together. I would only choose the best servants for my queen, of course, and my Sabrina needs a more...youthful companion to help her get accustomed to her new life. I trust you will perform this task to the letter.”

 

 _Wait, what?_ Sabrina turned to stare at him, aghast.

The very last thing she needed was a creature like Lamia at her side day and night, watching her every move and probably reporting everything she did back to him. She had guessed she would be getting servants, but she would have preferred them to be fellow humans.

 

Neither Lilith nor Lamia seemed shocked at his announcement. Lilith remained silent while Lamia giggled and preened, gleeful at receiving praise from her Dark Lord. They both already knew, and he just hadn't bothered consulting her about it first. _What a surprise._

 

“Um...Dark Lord-” she began, quietly enough that she knew only he could hear her. She _knew_ he did, but he acted as though he hadn't.

 

“That will be all for now, Lamia. Lilith will be attending to Sabrina tonight, but your work begins tomorrow. In the meantime, enjoy the festivities.” He dismissed the demoness, along with any objections Sabrina had been about to make. Lamia leapt to her feet and practically skipped off back to her table, her long fiery tresses swishing behind her.

 

The next demon to make his exaltations was another reptilian, only this one was far more monstrous than Lamia. His powerful, muscular body was covered in dark green scales and his head bore an uncanny resemblance to that of a crocodile's.

 

She checked her list again, seeing to her relief that this was the last name on it.

 

“Tannin, General of Chaos.”

 

The demon lord bowed low. “My queen, it is a dishonor to finally stand in your unholy presence. May your reign be eternal and terrifying.”

 

“That it will be,” Lucifer interjected. “But I have another important matter to discuss with you, Tannin.”

 

Tannin turned his yellow gaze to the Dark Lord.

 

“I need you to hunt down and capture an apostate. Faustus Blackwood, the former high priest of Greendale coven has not only turned his back on me and the Church of Night, he chose to poison the coven instead of giving it over to the rightful hands of my queen. For this treason, he must be punished.”

 

Sabrina nearly choked on her drink at the Dark Lord's words. So he did care for enacting justice after all, even if it was for the wrong reasons. A mutual hatred of Father Blackwood may be the one thing they had in common.

 

“Instruct the hordes to be on the lookout for him. There will be no safe space left for him to hide, no hole for him to crawl into. He will be brought back here, preferably alive, to grovel at my feet and beg for the mercy he won't be receiving.”

 

“I will deliver this warlock to you, Dark Lord. I will not fail you,” promised Tannin, with another bow.

 

Lucifer dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Good. Then go, and make haste.”

 

Tannin hurried from the room and the atmosphere among the demons shifted. Now that the ceremony was over, they began to talk amongst each other again as they helped themselves to the multitude of dishes piling the tables. It was all of a much higher standard than the fare normally served at the Academy. Either the students were given worse food deliberately or the Dark Lord's retinue included way better chefs.

 

As appetizing as the food looked, she couldn't help noticing there were a disproportionate amount of meat dishes and had a nasty suspicion as to what kind of meat it was. That suspicion deepened further when she caught sight of Lamia, the notorious child-eating Lamia, digging into a plate of rare ribs, her hands and mouth stained with blood as she tore at them.

 

Sabrina was seized with a sudden urge to throw up. She looked around at all the food again, wondering how much of it was human meat and how she could have ever thought it looked palatable. It was enough to put her off the whole idea of meat.

 

She decided then and there that she was going to become a vegetarian.

 

Though she had largely lost her appetite, she settled for a vegetable pie that smelled mouth-watering enough to rival Aunt Hilda's recipe. A bit more at ease now that the spotlight wasn't shining solely on her and the Dark Lord, she re-opened the topic of Father Blackwood.

 

“So...you really don't have any idea where Blackwood could be? Don't you own his _soul_? Aren't you able to...I don't know, track him somehow?” she asked, taking care to keep her voice down. If he got angry about having his authority questioned in public, then she didn't suppose he would like having his magical abilities questioned either.

 

“Normally I could, but I have reason to suspect he's used the Melmoth spell to conceal himself from me. No matter. We'll find him soon enough, and he will sorely regret his treachery.” He patted her hand in what was evidently meant to be a reassuring gesture. “You need not worry yourself, little one. He shall be dealt with accordingly, as will anyone else who refuses to bow to you. I will not permit anyone to insult my chosen consort.”

 

He was completely missing the point, but she couldn't be bothered to explain to him that she cared more about avenging the coven than she did about being bowed to. It wouldn't do to antagonize him, especially not when she still had an important request to make regarding Blackwood.

 

“There was something else I wanted to ask you about. It's about Father Blackwood's-” She raised the point tentatively, knowing she may be pushing her luck.

 

“Not _Father_ Blackwood, just Blackwood. He has been excommunicated from the Church of Night, and thus no longer holds any titles of prestige,” he corrected her.

 

“Oh, right.” Sabrina hid her smugness at this news.“It was actually his daughter I wanted to talk to you about...”

 

“What of her?”

 

“She's terrified that you blame her for what Blackwood did, even though she had absolutely nothing to do with it. It was her who brought the poisoned witches and warlocks to my aunts in the first place. If it weren't for her, none of them would have survived. Don't hold her father's actions against her. _He_ is a traitor, but Prudence would never betray you. She's always been devoted to you.”

 

“Oh, I know; I receive her prayers every evening. I know many things about her; secrets that she has yet to divulge to anyone else, not even her beloved Sisters. Such a faithful, loyal Child of Night...” He let that hang in the air just long enough to get Sabrina's hopes up, before adding.

 

“Just like your Aunt Zelda was, right up until she thrust that dagger into my back.

 

“As it is, I also know very well that Prudence played no role in her father's crimes. Had I ever suspected otherwise, I would have already had her executed and sent to the Pit to burn indefinitely.”

 

Sabrina's blood ran cold, remembering again exactly who she was dealing with here, and for the first time she felt a (rather miniscule, but still) drop of pity for Blackwood, imagining the fate that awaited him once he was captured. But she was much more concerned with saving Prudence from suffering the same.

 

“If you know she's innocent then don't punish her!” She all but begged. Her pleas didn't seem to be cutting any ice with the Dark Lord, as he continued to study her with what appeared to be a dissonant air of thoughtfulness.

 

“The apple never falls far from the tree. Her father has proven himself to be nothing more than a foolish traitor. His daughter may be innocent and loyal at the moment, but who is to say she won't one day exhibit the same characteristics as him? Perhaps it would be safer to get rid of her now, rather than take the risk?”

 

This logic, and his choice of proverb, stung her for reasons that had nothing to do with Prudence and everything to do with herself. Her eyes burned with sudden tears. She shut them at once, knowing she couldn't get away with crying in a room filled with Hell's most dangerous demons. She didn't want him to see her tears either.

 

“Please don't. You said you would give me everything I wanted. I want you to give Prudence another chance. Please, give her a chance...” She opened her eyes again. They were wide and earnest, enough to melt anyone's heart.

 

There was a long pause, during which the Dark Lord contemplated her words. Finally, he conceded.

 

“Your concern for the girl seems rather misplaced, considering she can barely stand you. But very well. I will give her the chance to make amends for Faustus's treachery.”

 

Sabrina let out an intake of breath at this.

 

“Thank you, Dark Lord.”

 

She wondered if she was going to have to force herself to thank him every time he showed basic decency. She even found herself questioning why she was so fixated on speaking for Prudence anyway. She was willing to bet Prudence would never do the same for her. And she doubted she was going to get any gratitude for this either. Not that she was doing this for gratitude, but...

 

_"Friends?  Is that what you think that we are?  The only occasions you deign to speak to me or my sisters is when you need something from us."_

_"Except for the time I saved your life."_

_"Oh, during the Feast of Feasts?  You did that for you, not for me."_

 

Those words Prudence had said to her when she pleaded with her at the Academy doors echoed through her mind, and she wondered if they were true. Had she ever done anything out of genuine selflessness, or had it always been just so she could _feel_ like she held the higher moral ground? Was the reason she was doing this now only an effort to ease her conscience of all the blood she knew her hands were soaked in?

 

Right about now, humans were probably being slaughtered and devoured en masse, while she was sitting here drinking wine and eating pie with a group of cannibalistic demons. How stupid of her to think anything could ever atone for that.

 

The banquet seemed to drag on in a never-ending pageantry of food, drink and increasing hedonism. She couldn't wait for it to end. She had never been one for fancy dinners at the best of times, and when the guests happened to be the legions of Hell, she certainly wouldn't consider it the best of times. She couldn't bring herself to eat much at all despite the hunger gnawing at her, for she wasn't sure if she would even be able to keep it down.

 

On the other hand, she downed several more glasses of wine, embracing the fuzziness it brought her. Perhaps if she drank enough then she would forget this night altogether.

 

She had lost count of the courses by the time the feast finally drew to a close. The demons started to up and leave, probably to prepare for whatever role they were going to be playing in the apocalypse. A few continued to linger, including Lamia, who had apparently not satiated her appetite yet, and Lilith, whom she hadn't expected to go anywhere anyway. The Mother of Demons had remained a constant by her and the Dark Lord's side for the entire banquet...yet she hadn't uttered so much as a word in that time.

 

“Lilith, you're being very quiet,” the Dark Lord drawled, as though reading Sabrina's mind. “Is there something troubling you? Should you not be happy, now that the world is finally in our grasp?”

 

Sabrina speculated over whether he was being obtuse deliberately, or was really so incapable of seeing beyond himself. The truth was, there was no “our” to it, possibly never had been, and THAT was what was troubling Lilith; it was as clear as day.

 

For a moment, she stopped feeling sorry for herself enough to spare some sympathy for her. In a way, this must be even worse for her. They were both virtual prisoners of the Dark Lord, but she had at least been granted the illusion of power while Lilith, after all her years of dedicated service, had been tossed to the side. Now she had to watch as all her children worshipped at the feet of some teenage girl who was young by mortal standards, and practically non-existent by her own.

 

Despite her obvious misery, she remained as pragmatic and placid as ever.

 

“My Lord, if I am being quiet, then why, it's simply because I'm speechless with joy.” It was the most blatant lie Sabrina had ever heard, but the Dark Lord seemed to swallow it.

 

“I'm glad that you are being reasonable. In which case, you can be a good pet and escort my queen to her new room. Hathor and Ishtar should have everything ready by now.”

 

She could have sworn she saw a flicker of fear flit across Lilith's face at the mention of the two demonesses. Why, she had no idea. Perhaps she didn't get along with them either, and they were more formidable than Lamia? Neither of them had been among the demon aristocracy she met, so she didn't know what they were like.

 

She had barely begun to move from her seat when a loud, authoritative voice cut across the room.

 

“Wait!”

 

She looked up to see Aunt Zelda striding towards them with great purpose, Aunt Hilda at her side. Together, they presented a more united front than she had ever seen before. They came to a halt before the banquet table, both of them curtseying very half-heartedly to the Dark Lord, before Zelda rounded on Lilith.

 

“And just where are you taking our niece?” Her gaze was fierce enough to make even a demoness quail. That flash of fear surfaced in Lilith's features again, though she quickly hid it as she answered smoothly.

 

“To her new living quarters, of course.”

 

Zelda's glower only intensified. “Why you? _We_ are her aunts, her family. If anyone should have the task of helping her settle into her new home, it should be us.”

 

Lilith opened her mouth to respond but before she could get the words out, the Dark Lord chose that moment to chime in.

 

“Spellmans. I've given this task to Lilith because she has proven herself to be a loyal, trustworthy servant. You two, on the other hand, are extremely fortunate to still be alive after the little stunt you pulled earlier.”

 

Zelda and Hilda exchanged looks at this dramatic irony; he was still woefully ignorant of Lilith's role in their attempt on his life. Nobody was about to enlighten him, and he mistook the exchange for scepticism at the second part of his statement.

 

“Yes, you are. Not only did I spare you, I even allowed you front view at Sabrina's coronation. But now that the party is over, I think it's time you left.”

 

“Dark Lord.”  Zelda forced another curtsey, but Ambrose had been right. Even her practice while pretending to be under the Caligari spell wasn't enough to make her put on a convincing show of devotion now. Her voice shook with rage as she addressed him, and it couldn't be more obvious that she wanted nothing more than to stab him again.  “With all due respect, Sabrina is still our charge and we are absolutely not leaving here until we know she will be safe and happy.”

 

“Aunties...” Even after all was lost, they were still vouching for her. She was touched by it...but also very scared. For them, that was.

 

The Dark Lord let out a small laugh at Zelda's retort, but his eyes flashed dangerously and his next words cut like a knife.

 

“My dear Zelda, you seem to have misunderstood me. I'm not asking you to leave, I'm commanding you. You and Hilda can go voluntarily, or I can have you thrown out. I doubt the demons would be gentle about it either. It would probably be quite upsetting for your niece to witness such a spectacle, and I'm sure you don't want that.”

 

Zelda flushed a deep crimson to rival her hair as she glared at him. Sabrina feared she was about to attack him, a guaranteed act of suicide, when Hilda came to her rescue.

 

“We mean no disrespect. We just thought...” She shrunk back when he turned to her, before re-asserting herself. “Dark Lord,” she affirmed, and continued.

 

“It's only that the Academy hasn't exactly been the safest place for any witch lately. First there was those three Plague Kings that attacked Sabrina. Then the Academy was infiltrated by the angels. And now we've had Blackwood poison the entire coven. We just don't feel comfortable leaving Sabrina here by herself, you know? That's why we'd prefer to stay here and keep an eye on her.”

 

“Hilda, Hilda...” Lucifer began, slowly and patronizingly as though speaking to a toddler. “The Academy of Unseen Arts is under heavy guard by the very best of Hell's legions. Do you really think any intruder, be it angel or demon, let alone disgraced warlock, will be allowed anywhere near the Queen of Hell? I can assure you, this is the safest place she could possibly be.”

 

“Well...”

 

“Unless, that is, they were _not_ your main fear. Your real motivation has nothing to do with supposed concerns for Sabrina's safety, and everything to do with keeping her away from me. I suspect that's also the reason why you stabbed me in the back.”

 

Hilda was speechless for a moment. She eventually admitted sheepishly, “We just want to protect her.”

 

The Dark Lord surveyed her, still maintaining that condescending look, but there was also a glimmer of understanding there and not in a kind way.

 

“I believe you. In which case, you somehow think you need to protect her from me? Her own father? Why, you wound me.”

 

“It's with good reason,” Zelda snapped. The cracks were beginning to show in her dignified demeanour, her composure giving way to a terror that Sabrina had never seen before. “Your track record gives me reason to believe the worst, as does some of our...past history. Just what are your intentions with Sabrina? I suspect they're anything but pure.”

 

It was at this that the Dark Lord rose from his chair, glaring down at Zelda as he towered over her. He looked around the room, seeing that all the remaining demons had fixed their attention on what was going on. Most of them averted their eyes when they saw his blazing gaze. He was not fooled. The hearth behind him and the flames in the candelabras all flared up, the element of fire seemingly in tune with his tempestuous mood.

 

“All of you. Out!”

 

They didn't need telling twice. The hall went from half-full to nearly empty in a matter of seconds, with most of them desperate to get away from what looked to be an impending outburst from the Dark Lord. Lamia was the only one who seemed unruffled, casting a wistful glance at the half-filled plate of ribs she was still eating, before picking it up and taking it with her.

 

“You too, Lilith.”

 

Not looking too sorry, she headed for the door. She cast one last wayward glance at Sabrina before she exited the room, and it seemed almost...apologetic.

 

Once the room was clear, Lucifer turned back to Zelda, who remained unflinching, refusing to be cowed. Sabrina was expecting him to shout at her, curse her or do something equally dramatic like throwing stuff around telekinetically.

 

But when he spoke, his voice was as calm as ever...which somehow made his next words all the more horrific.

 

“My intentions are none of your concern, Zelda. It is my right as Dark Lord to lay with any witch I choose, as you very well know, and as Sabrina should have also known before she signed her body and soul over to me. As such, she will give herself to me tonight and every night after, thus fulfilling her duty as my consort.”

 

Just like that, her worst fear was confirmed.

 

She knew now why Lilith had been afraid; her fear hadn't been for herself, but for her. The demoness had realized what the Dark Lord was planning when he mentioned Ishtar and Hathor- two of the demons of lust invoked during marriage rites, Sabrina now remembered- or possibly long before that, but she was powerless to do anything to protect or even warn her.

 

If her aunts' horrified expressions were anything to go by, they had been afraid of this too. In the blink of an eye, Zelda's face went from angry red to chalk white.

 

“You- you actually mean to-” she stammered, unable to even form a sentence at first. When she finally found her voice, it was loud, direct and fierce. “She is your daughter!”

 

“Taboos placed forth by the False God mean little to me.”

 

“She is a _child_!” Zelda shrieked at him, abandoning all pretence of regard for him, and for herself.

To Sabrina's utter shock, she saw that her aunt's eyes were swimming in tears. The amount of times she had seen Zelda cry could be counted on one hand ; usually Hilda was the one who got emotional while Zelda considered herself above such mortal weakness, but now she looked to be on the verge of a full breakdown.

 

It shook her to see Aunt Zelda like this. If anything, it scared her even more than the prospect of becoming the Dark Lord's unwilling bride.

 

Yet he remained unmoved by her anguish.

 

“She was old enough for you to have no qualms with encouraging her to take part in Lupercalia.” His reasoning, though not entirely unsound, was still laughable.

 

The two things could not be more different. On Lupercalia, she had been willing. She had decided Nick (oh, how it broke her to think about him now) was the one she wanted to lose her virginity to. He hadn't pressured her, he had let her reach that decision on her own.

While nothing ended up happening between them, due to Amalia and all the other circumstances that followed after, she was sure that if it had, she wouldn't have regretted anything...at least, not until she learned that their whole relationship had been a lie all along, and Nick had just been stringing her along until the time came to hand her over to the Dark Lord.

 

Then again, she hadn't expected the Dark Lord to have any concept of “consent”.

 

If the sight of Zelda crying wasn't already enough to break her heart, what happened next definitely did. Her aunt fell to her knees. The proud, upright Zelda Spellman grovelled at the Dark Lord's feet, her hands raised as though in prayer, the tears now falling freely. It was the ultimate gesture of supplication.

 

“Dark Lord, I am _begging_ you. Don't do this to Sabrina. Take one of us instead if you must, but leave her alone.” Her voice cracked, and Hilda reached out to comfort her while peering anxiously at Lucifer.

 

But not even this display from his former devotee could stir his black heart. He only eyed her with distaste, and boredom.

 

“Enough. You forget your place, Zelda. You have been a faithful and devout follower all these years, and both you and your sister have raised my daughter on my behalf; perhaps not as well as I would have liked, but adequately enough. For this, you will be revered among witches. But make no mistake; you no longer have any say in Sabrina's fate. She belongs to _me_ , and I will do what I want with her,” he declared, ignoring the wail of despair that escaped Zelda at this. Hilda, who had been relatively calm up until now, also began to break down.

 

Sabrina had heard enough.

 

“I don't belong to _anyone_! Least of all you, _Father_.”

 

She had been biting her lip, keeping her anger bottled up all evening. She had never gone so long without expressing her opinions; never usually one to remain quiet and hide her true feelings. She wasn't sure what it was; listening to him discuss her fate with her aunts like she wasn't even there, seeing Aunt Zelda sacrifice her dignity for her only to be disregarded, or hearing him belittle them; but now she had finally reached the end of her tether.

 

She stood up, flinging her chair back and standing nose-to-nose with the Dark Lord- or at least as close as she could come to that, since she was a lot shorter than him. What she lacked in stature, she made up for in pluckiness. After holding her tongue for so long, she was now unable to stop herself from saying exactly what she thought of him.

 

“I never even wanted to sign my name in your book! You know that better than anyone. But you were heavenbent on getting that signature, just so you could have some sick claim on me. You had to resort to trickery, and lies, and even getting Nick to seduce me so I would follow through on your plans. You, the great and terrible Dark Lord, were desperate not to be shown up by a teenage girl. And in the end, I only signed it so I could protect Greendale...from a disaster _you_ probably caused. So don't pretend that I somehow knew what I was signing up for and agreed to it all, because I didn't!”

 

She held his searing gray gaze, her head raised in defiance and her own brown eyes unblinking.

 

“I'm not your property, Dark Lord, and I will _not_ submit to you.”

 

What followed was the single most tense silence she had ever been part of...and she'd been in a few. Hilda and Zelda had stopped sobbing, staring ashen-faced at her and Lucifer, whose expression was unreadable. All the while, she was torn between a feeling of savage triumph that she had finally spoken her mind, and the sinking feeling that she had just lit her own funeral pyre.

 

The Dark Lord was the one to break it. With a snap of his fingers, he summoned several of the demonic guards to his side.

 

“Escort the Spellman sisters to the witch cells,” he told them. They moved in to seize Zelda and Hilda, whose attempts to fight back were entirely futile.

 

“Sabrina! Sabrina!”

 

“Aunties!” She tried to reach them, though she had no idea what she could do to help them. She was only a small and frail girl of sixteen, while these demons were massive and monstrous. Not to mention that now she didn't even have her magic to help her.

Not that it mattered anyhow. She had barely stepped a foot in their direction before Lucifer grabbed her arm and forced her down again. She glared up at him, trying in vain to pry his hand off her.

 

“Let go of me!” She struggled helplessly as she watched her aunties being dragged away, while they screamed her name and continued to entreat the Dark Lord on her behalf. Their cries continued down the corridor after they were forced out the dining room and the heavy doors slammed shut behind them.

 

“Aunties...” she whispered, the guilt weighing heavily on her. She looked to Lucifer, who still had a firm grip on her, hating him but hating herself even more for letting this happen at all.

 

“Let them go! I was the one who insulted you, not them! If you're so mad at me then throw _me_ in the witch cells, but let my aunts go.” The witch cells would be far preferable to spending the night with him anyway.

 

The Dark Lord only sneered at her feeble attempt at compromising, no doubt seeing right through her.

 

“How very noble of you. But have you already forgotten what I warned you of earlier? I told you what would happen if you defied me again. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill your beloved aunts, and Ambrose too, right now.”

 

_Seriously? He's going to use them to threaten me every time I refuse to dance to his little tune?_

She hadn't even _done_ anything to defy him, only spoken her mind. Could he sink any lower? It was cheating, really. How could she possibly defy him if it meant risking the lives of those she loved? It left her paralyzed and unable to make any kind of move against him.

 

But he was counting on her thinking that way. He wanted her to be so intimidated by his threats that she never did so much as speak a word in disagreement of him. He wanted her to be as much of a robotic and lifeless slave as Zelda had been when Blackwood placed her under that evil spell, only instead of magic controlling her, it would be her own fear for those she loved. He knew love was her main weakness and he would exploit it for all it was worth.

 

Not if she could help it.

 

“I can think of one. If you kill them, then I'll never, ever comply with any of your demands again. I would have no reason to, and every reason not to, because I'd never serve the man who killed my family. In the end, you would have to kill me too.”

 

As angsty as it sounded, she knew it was the truth. If this was what it ended up coming down to, then she would choose death over submitting to him.

 

He was wearing that unreadable expression again. She would have preferred it if he glowered at her. She hated being in the dark regarding his true emotions; it made her unsure where exactly she stood, and what to do next. She couldn't stand the uncertainty.

 

There was quiet for a moment until he finally spoke, in that softer tone he seemed to reserve entirely for her.

 

“I see...so you believe once they are dead, you will have nothing left to lose? Ah...but that is where you are wrong. So incredibly wrong.”

 

Sabrina said nothing. She didn't know what she even could say. She could sense that a contradiction was coming and she wasn't going to like it one bit.

So his next question caught her off-guard.

 

“Do you remember that time when you were a girl of five and you burned your hand while baking with your Aunt Hilda?”

 

_Huh, what?_

Sabrina gaped at him, wondering where on Earth he was going with this. _Of all random things to bring up..._

 

But yes, she did remember it quite vividly. One of her favorite pastimes as a child was helping Aunt Hilda with her baking, and that particular time they had been making chocolate chip cookies. Hilda handed her the hot baking tray, not realizing Sabrina had taken off her oven gloves. The little girl had shrieked and immediately dropped the tray with a loud clang, causing most of the freshly baked cookies to crumble to pieces.

 

It was such a waste of the afternoon's work, but Hilda hadn't even cared about the cookies. She had been far more worried about Sabrina's burned hand, wasting no time in applying one of her healing spells and tearfully fussing over her long after the burn was gone.

 

Although it hadn't seemed so idyllic at the time, she remembered it fondly as a sweet, wholesome moment between her and Auntie Hilda. It seemed so wrong that the Dark Lord somehow knew about it, and was now reminding her of it to make some point.

 

“How did you know-” she began, wondering if Lilith had been wrong all along and he really _was_ omniscient.

 

He smirked at her confusion. “Prayer, my child. Poor, sweet Hilda was so devastated, so guilt-struck over causing even a minor injury to her darling niece. She was never usually one for prayer, unlike Zelda, but she spent the following week praying to me, expressing her remorse and agonizing over the pain she had caused you. And what pain it was. Do you remember how it felt?”

 

All too well. It was the earliest memory of pain she had. Even as the most minor of burns, probably not even second-degree, it had hurt like heaven.

 

Or rather, like hell.

 

Oh...

 

“Now imagine that pain. Imagine it magnified a thousand-fold in intensity and covering every inch of you. Such heat should burn you into nothingness in mere seconds, but you remain alive and still able to feel every second of it.

 

“Think of how much time has passed since that incident with the baking tray, and imagine that the pain has never left you since then. Eleven years seems like such a long time to you, doesn't it? It is nothing. And it is only the beginning. It will continue for another eleven years, and another eleven years after that. It will continue for the rest of your life, and then you will be immediately reborn to live another life filled with the same pain, and so it will continue.

 

“There will never be a moment of respite. There will never be any escape. The agony will be all you ever know, for the rest of your existence. And that existence _will never end_.”

 

Had she ever really thought about it? Not really, because humans generally didn't dwell on such possibilities. They always lived in the present, so the idea of eternity was something that was beyond comprehension for all they liked to talk about it. An eternity of agony, even less so. It was too horrible to think of.

 

“That, little one, is the fate that awaits your precious Spellmans once I kill them...if you continue to defy me. Hilda was so torn up at causing you even the slightest amount of pain . How will you feel if you end up being the reason she and her sister burn in hellfire for all eternity?”

 

_No. No. No. No. Oh, please no._

 

She swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat.

“You can't...”

 

“I can, and I would. But I am not petty and merciless like my own good-for-nothing Father. I don't simply toss my children into the furnace like unwanted trash, for the slightest of misdemeanors and then forget about them. Even the ones who anger me the most can hope to be reprieved from their sentence...eventually. But if you insist on disobeying me then I will have no choice but to keep punishing your family for it, be it before or after they die. So perhaps if their lives aren't enough to inspire you to behave, then you will do so for their souls...because death is the least of what I can inflict on them.

 

“As to your own death, you should stop entertaining these melodramatic fantasies of martyrdom. You will never die. I will not kill you, and even if you were to succeed in taking your own life, you've already signed your soul over to me. I could easily retrieve it from Hell. There is no escaping your destiny, my daughter...and no escaping me. Not in death, nor anywhere else.”

 

The hand that had been maintaining its grip on her arm now moved behind her head, fingers entwining themselves in her silvery hair. His other hand lightly caressed her cheek and she shivered at his touch, in spite of the unnatural heat permeating from him.

 

“You are mine, Sabrina. Now and forever.”

 

In her heart, she still clung to her hope that she might be able to stand a chance against him. She wanted to be strong, to be brave, to stand up for herself like she had always done before. But when the cost of her defiance was so high, she couldn't do it. She couldn't, she just couldn't. She had too much to lose.

 

She could live through this, could comply with his sick, twisted wishes. She _could_ , as long as her family and everyone else she loved were OK because of it. But if her unwillingness led to their eternal torment, then that would be her torment too. She would even prefer the hellfire to living in never-ending guilt.

 

“Please...please don't harm my family.” Her deep brown eyes glistened with the tears she had so far refused to shed in front of him. All she could do now was plead, and hope he would show mercy. She had never felt so pathetic, so helpless. She hated it. She hated it.

 

“I am your family, Sabrina. The only family you will ever have, or need.” He wiped one of her tears away with his thumb, in deceptive tenderness.

 

“...Then don't do this evil thing...” Her voice barely came out as a whimper.

 

“There is no such thing as good and evil, no more than there is any such thing as choice. There is only-”

 

“-your desire.” She finished for him, her doe-like eyes downcast in defeat. His hand reached under her chin, firmly but gently forcing her to look at him, at his sickeningly handsome face and those beautiful eyes that carried the hue of the stormiest sea. In them she saw the true depths of his depravity, and with a sinking heart she realized what was coming next.

 

“Precisely. You are learning quickly, Sabrina. And what I desire most of all in this world...”

 

He was too close. She could feel his breath on her face, and like everything else about him it carried that consuming yet not unpleasant heat. She wanted to move away from him, but even if the hand behind her head hadn't been holding her fast, she wasn't sure if she could have done. She was rooted to the spot, backed into a corner, powerless to resist as he confirmed her doom.

 

“...is you.”

 

His mouth claimed hers.

 

Sabrina had been kissed so many times, first by Harvey and then by Nick...but none of the kisses she had shared with them came anywhere close to this, in intensity or passion. This ignited her in a way that nothing else had, alighting her senses and burning her from within. It was not a rough or deep kiss, his lips soft against hers, but the undertone of violence was there along with the need to dominate her, and disturbingly enough...she didn't entirely hate it.

 

She should have felt disgusted. She should have felt repulsed. It would have been wrong enough anyway, what with him being the antithesis of everything she stood for, the embodiment of evil whom everyone in the world was taught to fear from childhood, and the enemy she had been striving to defeat these past few months. The fact that he was her own father and this was one of the gravest taboos anyone could commit only added another layer of wrongness to the whole situation.

 

But it was so hard to think of him as her father. Perhaps it was that his supernaturally youthful good looks made it almost impossible to comprehend the idea of him being anyone's father.

Or perhaps it was that she barely knew him really, had only just met him in person and therefore had no kind of familial connection to him. She was just unable to feel the same level of physical revulsion as she would have done if it were, say, Ambrose kissing her.

 

Instead, it felt...good.

 

When he finally pulled away, his smile could only be described as devilish. It was the smile of someone who knew they had triumphed. She hadn't returned the kiss, but she hadn't fought him either, and he could probably sense too that her body had reacted to some extent. He had made her doubt herself, and that was a win for him.

 

Dazed and breathless, she was barely aware of him summoning Lilith and speaking to her until the demoness was beside her. She met Lilith's gaze, and wondered if for a second she had seen sympathy in it. That was probably her reaching though. She was fairly sure that Lilith still resented her despite their temporary team-up.

 

“Take her to her room. Prepare her for the night. Hathor and Ishtar will be waiting to assist you.” Lilith bowed her head in submission to Lucifer's order, taking Sabrina's hand and pulling her to her feet. She stumbled, and Lilith wrapped an arm around her shoulder to support her as she led her out of the dining hall.

 

She was silent while they walked through the corridors of the Academy, which save for a few patrolling demons were completely deserted now. Her emotional numbness had given way to fatigue, both mental and physical. It had been a long day, and a long night before that. And now she faced what was surely going to be the longest night of her life.

 

“Ms. Ward- I mean, Lilith, wait.” She drew to a halt. Lilith released her, and Sabrina, overcome by dizziness that she wasn't sure was caused by her exhaustion, anxiety, or simply having had way too much wine, found the nearby wall and leaned against it.

 

“Please...you have to help me...” She didn't think she had ever sounded so pitiful.

 

“I cannot help you.” Lilith's tone was not unkind, but carried a resignation that suggested she believed herself past helping anyone.

 

“There must be something you can do, anything-” Sabrina begged, but even as she did, she knew it was idiotic. What did she think Lilith could do? Entreat the Dark Lord on her behalf? If he hadn't listened to the pleas of herself, his queen and own daughter, then why would he listen to her?

Or was she hoping Lilith would magic her out of his reach? Even if she did, Zelda and Hilda were still locked in the witch cells and at his mercy. And even if they were somehow able to rescue _them_ too, they would still spend their lives in fear of their eventual deaths. His speech about Hell was still burned into her mind, and she couldn't ever risk provoking him to act on his threat.

 

Lilith was no more optimistic.

 

“There is nothing. I haven't even been able to help myself all these years, so how could I possibly help you? The truth is, dear Sabrina, we have lost. I have lost the power I always wanted. You have lost the freedom you always wanted to keep. He has won, and now the only way we can hope to survive in his world is to give him what he wants.”

 

Sabrina shook her head fervently.“I can't. I thought I could, but I can't. Not when what he wants is...” She gulped, her insides curdling in disgust as she choked it out. “...me.”

 

“You can. Do you think you are the only one who has ever had to suffer this? Women and girls have been abused by men since the dawn of time...I should know, I was there. I _was_ the first one. The Dark Lord is a man, as is the False God...and this is a man's world we live in. No wonder it is such a terrible place.”

 

Sabrina slumped against the wall, shutting her eyes in frustration at the hopelessness of it all. Once upon a time, she would have disagreed with Lilith's defeatist view of life. She had seen everything through rose-tinted glasses, in the way all children tend to. Then she had gotten older, become more aware of all the injustices in the world, especially the ones committed against young girls such as herself.

But challenging injustices was what gave her purpose, and she had believed she could make the world better by being pro-active.

 

How silly. If the very God, False or not, who created humanity, had made women for the purpose of being used and abused, then what chance did they really have? Lilith was right. Whether it be the False God or the Dark Lord who ruled it, one thing remained the same; this was indeed a man's world.

 

“It's not fair.” It was such a childish thing for her to say, and she sounded more like the mandrake version of herself right now. But it was so very true.

 

She waited for Lilith to give her the standard unhelpful adult spiel about life not being fair, something the demoness must be well-versed in. Instead she felt a grip on her shoulders, and opened her eyes to see her- or rather Ms. Wardwell's- blue ones gazing into her own. They were sad, and altogether too understanding.

 

“It isn't. But don't lose that resolve of yours. Who knows, you may get your chance one day. The chance to take your freedom and your revenge...but for now, you must obey. And even though your hopes are surely in vain, if they are what will help you survive then you must hold onto them.”

 

Her impervious demeanor had gone. That more maternal attitude she displayed before the coronation had resurfaced, along with a certain vulnerability. It was as strange to see this side of her as it had been with Aunt Zelda. Come to think of it...the two women were not too dissimilar.

 

They resumed their journey, which was far too short, and before long they had reached her new rooms situated on the top floor of the Academy in a wing she had never visited...if it had even existed up until now. Its black double doors were flanked by two more of those imposing demon guards, who bowed to the two witches before opening the doors to admit them.

 

 _Wow._ Most of the Academy was already opulent looking enough; with all its dark wood and Occultic décor, but this room outdid it. It followed the same moody color scheme as the rest of the building, as well as the same Satanic decoration theme, but somehow managed to be even more grandiose.

 

And waiting for them in the centre of the room...

 

...Were the two most beautiful women she had ever seen.

 

One was dark and the other fair, but both were equally lovely. Even if she hadn't known who they were beforehand, she would have recognized the former from an illustration she saw in the Demonomicon. Hathor wore a distinctive horned headdress and upon closer inspection one would notice she had a pair of cow's ears, probably the only “demonic” characteristic she held.

Illustrations could never do her nor Ishtar justice, however. They were beyond imagination, overflowing with allure and sensuality. Dressed in jewels and wisps of silk that did little to cover their luscious curves, she could see why they had been classed as demons of lust.

 

They approached Sabrina and bowed to her. “Queen Sabrina.” They acknowledged Lilith too, inclining their heads towards her. “Mother.”

 

Sabrina was already getting fed up with the constant forced displays of devotion. They were ultimately hollow and she doubted any of them were sincere. What was the point in being worshipped by all these demons when she was really just as much a slave to the Dark Lord as any of them? Her chains just happened to be made of gold was all.

 

“Ishtar, Hathor. I have brought the queen for you to bestow with your blessing.”

 

Hathor smiled, which managed to make her look even more beautiful. “Thank you, Lilith. She is in good hands with us.”

 

She took Sabrina's left hand while Ishtar took her right, and they led her to the adjoining bathroom which was no less opulent than the bedroom.

A steaming, hot bath of rose petals awaited her, which looked extremely inviting...though she flinched when the demonesses began to disrobe her, removing her golden dress and crown. Ishtar scoffed at her discomfort while Hathor kindly but still rather patronizingly explained to her that in the ancient past, it was standard practice for queens to be bathed by their handmaidens and she had nothing to be embarrassed by.

Sabrina was already well aware of this, having had to give Prudence that buttermilk bath the year before, and didn't consider herself to be a prude or insecure by any means...but being given a scented bath by two demonesses was still an awkward experience that she could have done without.

 

 _Still_ , she thought glumly, once she was out of the bath and they were magically drying her off. _I'm about to face much worse._

 

With this in mind, she was silent and ruminative while Hathor and Ishtar carried out their beautifying ritual. She noticed that although they must be more powerful than any witch, the only magic they had used was to dry her. And unlike witches, they hadn't needed to use any spell for it.

When they had finished their work, she took a look at herself in one of the room's many gilded mirrors.

 

The sight was enough to make her nauseous and not because they had made her look ugly; quite the opposite, in fact. They had done an outstanding job. She was forced to accept that in comparison to the lust demons, she and even Lilith were terrible at applying make-up.

 

It was the overall image that made her sick to her stomach. She looked so...ethereal, so pure and virginal. They had put her in a white nightgown and matching robe, made of silk so fine it was almost translucent. Where she would normally wear her black Alice band, a wreath of white roses crowned her white blonde curls. And while they had put more cosmetics on her than she would ever usually wear, it looked understated to anyone who didn't know any better. Gone was her favorite red lipstick; replaced with a nude pink that made her features look so much softer, and her cheeks were dusted with a light peach which gave her face a luminous glow. It made her look even more youthful.

 

In the midst of all this pale whiteness, her deep brown eyes stood out. They were wide, frightened and on the verge of overflowing. That warning Aunt Hilda had given her earlier when they had been back at their house, a lifetime ago, came back to haunt her.

 

“ _You are powerless, my love. You'll be like a lamb to the slaughter.”_

 

How ironic that was now exactly what she looked like. A picture of innocence that he would tear to shreds.

 

When they brought her back out to the bedroom, she saw that Lilith had taken a seat by the blazing fireplace and was gazing into it, the dancing flames reflected in her steel blue eyes.

For a second, Sabrina thought the demoness looked as tired as she felt...in more ways than one. How exhausting it must be to have lived for thousands of years; to see so many humans age and die, and be witness to the rise and fall of countless civilizations. Would that end up being her fate too?

 

Lilith looked up at the sound of their footsteps. Her arched eyebrows rose slightly as she took in Sabrina's appearance.

 

“My, don't you look...angelic.” It did not sound like a compliment. She aired no grievances to Hathor and Ishtar however, only telling them, “The Dark Lord will certainly be pleased. He should be here shortly. You may return to Hell if you wish, though it's likely that you will be called here again soon enough.”

 

“It is our dishonor, Unholy Mother of Demons.” The two demons curtsied once again before Hathor stepped forward, taking Sabrina's face in her hands. They were soft and warm, and the young witch was mesmerized as she held the demoness's dark gaze.

 

“Stay strong, my queen. It is not my place to question our Dark Lord's decisions, but I believe he is making a grave mistake to force himself on you when your heart is so clearly unwilling.” -Sabrina's eyes widened, her mouth falling open in surprise at Hathor's words- “But with our gifts, the night may at least be more bearable for you.”

 

She placed a kiss on Sabrina's brow. A warmth spread through her; not the burning intense heat she was starting to associate with Lucifer, but a dulcet one that made her think of cloudless skies and the summer breeze.

For a moment, she felt soothed; almost relaxed, as though she wasn't in the most precarious situation she had ever been in; as though she wasn't going to be hurt and abused by her own father, who also happened to be the Devil; as though the lives and souls of everyone she loved didn't depend on her accepting it.

 

She took in this being, this woman that seemed so different from the other monstrosities she had seen that day. Her face was soft and rounded, her eyes were benevolent, and she seemed to glow with an inner light. It was hard to believe she was even a being of Hell at all.

 

Ishtar, she wasn't so sure about. The demoness seemed similar to Hathor but her personality was considerably less welcoming. She hadn't uttered a single word other than her initial exaltation, only scrutinizing her with unusually deep blue eyes and an air of hostility.

She got the feeling that the demoness was evaluating her somehow, and so far was unimpressed by what she saw. When she leaned forward to kiss Sabrina's other brow, she wore an expression of deepest disgust as though she were being compelled to kiss a slug.

 

But Sabrina had far more to worry about than what one demoness thought of her. After Hathor and Ishtar left, it was just her and Lilith. The tension was so thick, one could almost reach out and touch it in its solidness. She practically felt her own heart thudding against the inside of her chest, she was so wracked with terror.

 

“You're frightened.” It was not a question asked by Lilith, but rather an observation. A very obvious one at that.

 

“Yes.”

 

As humiliating as it was for her to admit it. She had always assumed she would lose her virginity to Harvey, and then she assumed it would be Nick. She always thought it would at least be someone she trusted and cared for, and whom she knew likewise cared about her. Even so, she had been crippled with nerves as well as excitement that Lupercalia night when she thought she and Nick would finally be going all the way. When the fiasco with Amalia ended up scuppering the night's plans, she had actually felt the smallest amount of relief to be getting a reprieve from something she wasn't sure she was truly ready for.

 

Now she wished they had gone through with it. Even in light of Nick's betrayal, she would have preferred her first time to be with him.

In fact, she would rather her first time was with nearly anyone else.

 

“Such fears are inevitable...but do try to put them aside.”

Sabrina only gave her a look of incredulity at this and Lilith sighed, turning back to the fire. The shadows it cast on her face made her look almost inhuman; almost showed the true face under the attractive one she now wore.

“I believe he sees you as part of himself, and if there is one thing in this world he loves then it's himself. He will not be cruel to you.”

 

Sabrina stared down at the crimson rug at her feet. It looked like a pool of blood.

 

“I'd prefer it if he was.” It was a thought that escaped her mouth without her even realizing it.

 

She was spared from having Lilith question her sanity when a loud crash of thunder sounded through the room. Both women looked around to see that the Dark Lord had materialized in a cloud of smoke, similarly to how he had left the clearing after she blew the Horn of Gabriel.

 

She suspected he was perfectly capable of teleporting silently but liked to make a dramatic entrance.

 

“Dark Lord.” Lilith rose to her feet at his appearance, but he barely gave her a glance. He only had eyes for Sabrina, and the hunger in them was nearly enough to make her want to gouge her own eyes out. He didn't look away from her even as he addressed his handmaiden.

 

“That will be all for tonight, Lilith. Leave us.”

 

Sabrina had the mad urge to seize the demoness and beg her to stay, to not leave her alone with him. She restrained herself, knowing what an irrational and ultimately pointless impulse it was. But nonetheless when Lilith disappeared, she felt like she was taking what little hope remained with her. There was no one left to stand by her side as she faced the Dark Lord.

She was alone...and entirely helpless.

 

“Sabrina.” He beckoned for her to come over to him. She did so, dragging her feet with each reluctant step even as every primal sense told her to run in the opposite direction. But running away was no longer an option...if it ever really had been in the first place.

 

When she got to him, he reached out to cup her cheek.

“Have you been thinking about what I told you earlier?” His voice was soft, as it so often seemed to be when he spoke to her. It was a tone she had never heard him take with anyone else.

 

 _Well, aren't I privileged?_ She thought bitterly.

 

“Yes, Dark Lord,” was what she said.

 

“And?”

 

“I...” Her eyes burned. She loathed herself for what she was about to do, even though she knew she would hate herself even more if she didn't. “I will do what you ask, as long as you don't harm them.”

 

_They are my real family. Not you. Never you._

 

“Good girl.” The only words Lucifer heard from Sabrina were the ones he wanted to hear. “Then kneel. Pledge yourself to me...and try none of your tricks this time.”

 

She knelt before him, her hands stretched out before her in a pose that mirrored the one she had used in the passion play when addressing Nick. She knew now why Lucifer had been so ardent for her to play Lilith. The performance had been as much of a sick wish fulfilment for him as it was for Blackwood. Her tears fell from her eyes onto the cool marble floor below as she choked out the same oath she made back then.

 

“M-maledictus vir Dei et falsa iugo prebeo. Ad fidem tibi d-domino obscuro eo. Coram me suscipies damnationem a-a-aeternam.” She could barely speak through her heaving sobs. She didn't look up, not wanting to see the satisfaction that she knew would be on Lucifer's face, so she was humiliated when he caught her chin and forced her to look at him.

 

“Not so defiant now, are we?”

 

In her vision that was blurred and distorted with tears, he looked practically demonic in his glee.

 

“I will give credit where credit is due; you have put up a decent fight. I would expect no less from my own. But I did warn you that you could never win against me. You could have saved yourself all this disappointment if you had just heeded my words and given in then.

 

“Still, what is done is done. You were unable to foil the prophecy...as I knew you never could. Your destiny was set in stone; written in the stars, thousands of years before you even existed. You were born to be Queen of Hell, Sabrina. It is your one and only purpose. We all have our place, little one, and yours is by my side.”

 

He relinquished his grip on her chin, instead holding out his hand for her to take.

She accepted it and let him help her to her feet, swaying slightly on the spot as she was overcome by that dizziness once again. He caught her and wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her, wiping the tears from her eyes with his other hand.

 

“There now, no more crying. Let us put all this ugliness behind us. Tomorrow is a new day, and with it comes the dawn of our eternal reign.”

 

He held her close to him, and to anyone else it might have seemed as though he were consoling her. And perhaps that really _was_ what he thought he was doing, in his own twisted way.

 

“For so long, I have waited for this moment...and you are everything I hoped you would be, my beautiful daughter. You should see yourself now. _Look._ ”

He turned her to face the mirror on the wall, so that she could once again see the ghostly image of her reflection. Through her own tearful eyes, she seemed even more unnaturally ethereal.

 

She looked like an angel...

 

...or a fallen angel.

 

“You are a Morningstar, Sabrina, and you shine brighter than any of the stars in Heaven. When the mortals see you as you truly are, they will forsake the False God for you in a heartbeat. And witchkind, for all they have looked down on you, will have no choice but to accept how wrong they were. You shall be worshipped as a Goddess, revered above all. I will give you everything and it will be no more than you deserve...

 

“...All I ask for in return is that you show your devotion towards me.”

 

Everything had a price, and what he asked for was more than she ever wanted to pay. But she had no choice.

 

She never had done.

 

There was no such thing as choice...not in his world, and this was now his world.

 

His kiss was far from gentle this time. It was forceful and plundering, rough and demanding.

 

It spoke of his triumph, his victory over her and all of humanity. It sang of his desire to possess her, truly possess her, and even though he already held ownership over her body and soul in the literal sense...that wasn't enough for him. He wanted all of her...and he always got what he wanted.

 

His desire was undeniable and insuppressible. It burned like the hellfire from which he had emerged; the flames that now engulfed the world of the living which Sabrina Spellman had once been part of.

 

But she was no longer Sabrina Spellman. She was no longer a mere mortal, and she was no longer a witch either.

 

She was Sabrina Morningstar; Maiden of Shadows, Proud Lady of Pandemonium, and Queen of Hell. _His_ Queen.

 

She let the fire consume her.

 


	4. Nothing

Waiting.

 

Lilith felt like she had spent her entire life waiting.

 

Waiting...in the metaphorical sense of the word, that was. Tonight was the most unusual of nights. For the first time in what must have been thousands of years of living (one did tend to lose count after a while), she had nothing to do.

 

She was so used to being busy. Even back in the so-called paradise that was the Garden of Eden, where everything she and Adam- the first Adam- needed literally grew on trees, somehow the job of gathering food always ended up falling to her. As did preparing their meals, collecting the water, and every other menial chore that needed to be done. As her husband constantly insisted, he was the superior one while she was only fit for the bottom position...and that was in _every_ sense of the word.

 

Then one day she had finally had enough. She was done with Adam's selfishness and the False God's favoritism towards him. She turned her back on them both, left the Garden and its phoney protection behind her forever, trading slavery in paradise for freedom in the barren wasteland outside.

She had no time to sit around and wait after that. Life became a constant battle for survival.

 

The fruits and herbs so bountiful in the Garden were sparse and difficult to harvest outside it, and in the early days of her exile she often went weeks without eating. She had to constantly look over her shoulder to make sure she was not being hunted by carnivorous beasts intent on satiating their own hunger, so unlike the sweet and harmless animals that inhabited Eden.

Even the weather was a factor against her. In the Garden of Eden, the temperature had always been mildly warm, while in the wastelands she had to contend with both freezing blizzards and blistering hot draughts. Each day brought its own challenges she needed to overcome if she hoped to stay alive.

 

It was a far cry from the security and safety she once knew; but she was free, and subject to no man. She began to settle into her new reality, etch out some kind of life for herself...and then she met Him.

Lucifer Morningstar, the beautiful fallen angel who seemed to offer her the best of both worlds.

 

By then, she had proven she was capable of surviving by herself. She did not need Him. But she was only a human back in those days, and like all humans she longed for companionship. Perhaps she hoped she could find with Him what she was never able to have with Adam. So she pledged herself to Him. By the time she realized what a mistake that was, it was too late.

 

Under His rule, her work was never done. She became the Mother of Demons, birthing thousands upon thousands to join His forces and one day stand against the False God who had abandoned her. She took to her task happily at first, with the promise that once her service to the Dark Lord was complete she would be granted a place by His side in Hell.

And her service, it seemed, was endless. She was constantly at His beck and call, subject to His every whim. Not all His orders made sense and she had long since given up on questioning them. Not even when He tasked her with travelling to the world above and watching over the half-mortal Sabrina Spellman.

 

Her place was to serve. No more, no less.

 

And yet, even when she had so much to do, when so much seemed to depend on her...she still had the never-ending feeling that she was waiting. What she was waiting for, though...

 

She did not even know herself any more. For her “turn”, whatever that was? If it was for the crown He promised her, then she would be waiting forever.

 

So it was unsurprising that she once again found herself waiting, even now when it seemed her work finally _was_ done.

She had been in her newly assigned quarters at the Academy- not nearly as luxurious or spacious as the new Queen's, but still rather impressive- when she had felt that familiar tugging sensation on her soul. It always started out as mildly annoying and then if ignored, would become unbearable. It was better not to let it get to that stage. She immediately followed His summons, expecting to appear before Him.

 

Instead she materialized in the corridor outside Sabrina's room. The Dark Lord had apparently summoned her as a preliminary measure and not yet seen fit to bless her with His unholy presence. She could have gone away and let Him summon her again when He was actually ready, but she knew He would not take kindly to such impudence from her. She was not Sabrina.

 

Glancing at a nearby grandfather clock and seeing that it read nine and thirty, she took a seat on one of the leather couches in the hallway, idly watching the dust particles stir as the morning light filtered in through the high windows. She tried to block out the sound of the two demon guards bickering amongst each other about something she didn't care to find out. Her children were a fickle bunch.

Of course, those particular guards weren't her direct offspring but she would not be surprised if they were at least distant descendants. The demon hordes tended to breed like rabbits.

 

By the time He finally emerged, it was close to ten.

 

It was still surreal to see Him in His angelic form. Even though it was the one He took when they first met, it was so long ago that it seemed more like a distant dream than a true memory. The monster was whom she had become accustomed to.

It was truer to reality.

 

Still, she would be lying to herself if she didn't admit this was a vast improvement. There had been many times she asked herself why she had ever pledged herself to Him in the first place. Seeing Him now, she could remember why. He was and still was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen; the most beautiful of the False God's creations. He put Adam's very existence to shame, and she had fallen under His spell the moment she laid eyes on Him. What a fool she was.

 

“My Lord.” She got up and respectfully curtsied, keeping her venomous thoughts well-hidden.

 

“Lilith. Now aren't you a sight for sore eyes?” Even now His smile was hypnotic, spellbinding. It was infuriating really, how He was able to be so charming. He seemed to be in extremely high spirits at the moment too...unusually so.

 

She knew she should be glad for this. He tended to be at His most magnanimous when He was happy, whereas He was terrifying to behold while in a fury. Back when she first met Him, He had been happier more often, even when they had nothing but each other. But as His appearance shifted and became more monstrous, so did His personality. Eventually all the happiness in their relationship was gone, replaced with nothing but rage and contempt.

But now, perhaps because He had finally regained the form He lost, He was now showing some resemblance to the man He was once. Even if His selfish nature remained the same.

 

Though she suspected His good mood may also have a lot to do with a certain silver-haired girl too. And therein lied the problem.

 

“I have answered your call. How may I serve?”

 

“I need you to attend to my queen's needs. Then once you are finished, you can induct Lamia in her new duties.”

 

So it would be back to the role of a common handmaiden. She had had to carry out far worse tasks before, but...

She did not give up her freedom for this.

 

“As you wish, my Lord.” She bowed her head in acknowledgement to His order, yet He did not dismiss her. He continued to look at her, scrutinizing her in a way that didn't seem overtly lustful...which was very unlike Him. His next question caught her further off-guard.

 

“Are you particularly...attached to that body?”

 

“Hmm?” There was a split second where she even wondered what He was talking about . Sometimes she would come close to forgetting that this body was not hers. She had possessed people before, but never for such a long period and never had she needed to live their full life in the process. In a way, Principal Mary Wardwell had become part of her identity.

 

“I'm surprised you are still using it. It has served its purpose. You no longer need to hide who you are from the Spellmans, nor the rest of the world. I would have thought you would prefer to be in your own form rather than continuing to wear the face of a aged mortal woman.” As condescending as His words were, they were not wrong.

 

Up until not too long ago, she had been dying to leave this feeble, middle-aged mortal body behind her, along with the mundane life that came with it. She had missed her beautiful, youthful face...and even her demonic one, which she could wear freely in Hell but never on Earth.

Now, however...the thought of it didn't enthuse her as much as it once did. Ever since she had met Adam- the second one- she had started to appreciate the life of Mary Wardwell a great deal more. No one had ever loved Lilith, but Mary Wardwell- the plain, bespectacled spinster that she was- had managed to find a man who both loved and respected her; a being Lilith once believed to be entirely mythical. It was nearly enough to make her envy the dead teacher.

 

But she could not think about Adam now. Not when she was required to put on a display of reverence towards his murderer. Silly human emotions would be the death of her if she wasn't careful. They were something she needed to discard, now that she was back to being Lilith, Mother of Demons instead of Mary Wardwell the schoolteacher.

 

“Indeed, Sabrina now knows that I am not her teacher. But this face is still the one she is most accustomed to...the one that has been advising her these past few months. Without it, I would just be another stranger to her, and I think she already has enough...well, strangeness, to deal with. She needs a familiar figure at her side to help her acclimatize to her new reality. And she said herself that Ms. Wardwell is her favorite teacher, so who would be better?” She smiled blithely, knowing that there were many people better suited to the task than her.

Sabrina's own aunts for example, who were both still locked in the witches cells below the Academy to ensure their niece's obedience.

 

The Dark Lord looked her up and down again, this time with more of His usual lechery. “In that case, it would be best if you kept that body for now. I must say, you wear it well.

 

“But enough talk. The time has come for my conquest over the Earth to be completed. The humans have seen the full extent of our forces and are eager for any end to the bloodshed. We should have little trouble, ahem, “negotiating” our terms with their leaders. They have little alternative but to comply, and many of them owe their careers to me anyway.

 

“Still, I think it best that my queen be left out of today's plans, considering her...fondness for mortals. I fear she has spent too much time among them. She still pines for the mortal world, and displays a certain reluctance to embrace her destiny.

 

“...But she'll come round soon enough.”

 

_Yes, soon enough. Once you have broken her down and destroyed every ounce of resilience she has, just like you did with me. Then she will “come round.”_

 

“You are wise in all matters, my Lord.”

 

Looking back, she tried to pinpoint when exactly her genuine adoration for Him became lies made up for the sake of self-preservation. It proved impossible. She only knew it had happened somewhere along the way...sometime during her long, miserable existence. She wondered if Sabrina would fare better than her or worse.

 

When she stepped into Sabrina's room, she saw no sign of the girl. The fire still burned, its flickering flames the only light in the darkness but even with her sharp eyesight, she was unable to detect any indication that Sabrina was there.

 

“Sabrina?” she called out tentatively. There was no reply. She hadn't really been expecting one.

 

She checked the bathroom quickly, worrying that she might find Sabrina had opened her wrists. Thankfully her fear was proven unfounded when she found that to be empty too. Returning to the bedroom, she began to wonder if Sabrina had somehow managed to get out, though she couldn't imagine how she could have possibly bypassed her and the Dark Lord without the use of magic.

 

“Sabrina!” She was louder this time, and this time she got a reply...but not from Sabrina.

 

From a distant corner of the room, so faint she could barely hear it, came a plaintive “Meow?”

 

Of course. The familiar.

 

She moved towards the source of the noise until she finally found it. There, in the furthermost corner of the room, hidden in the shadows, she found Sabrina; curled up and holding the cat goblin close to herself, her face buried in his dark fur while he purred. It was a calming sound Lilith was sure must be for Sabrina's benefit, as there was little else to purr about.

 

“Sabrina.”

 

She made her way over to the girl and knelt down in front of her. Sabrina did not look up, nor acknowledge her in any way.

 

“Sabrina, look at me.” She reached out and lightly touched her shoulder, expecting her to flinch or display some sign of shock at the contact. She didn't, but it was enough to rouse her and she finally looked up, slowly, meeting Lilith's concerned gaze with deadened eyes.

 

Lilith knew that expression well. She had seen it many times in the mirror.

 

And right now Sabrina looked terrible. She was not crying but her eyes were red, suggesting that she had been...a lot. There were dark circles under them too, as though she had not slept in days....which come to think of it, she probably hadn't. Her face was almost as pale as the white bathrobe she had wrapped around her otherwise nude body, and she trembled in what Lilith could only guess was fear, as the room's atmosphere was stiflingly hot.

 

To think she had once envied the girl.

 

Holding Sabrina's shoulders, she guided her to her feet. Sabrina complied, continuing to clutch her familiar close to her chest while Lilith checked her over for any bruises or marks that might have been inflicted on her. She couldn't see any.

 

“Are you injured?” she asked, wanting to be sure. Still saying nothing, Sabrina shook her head.

 

Lilith was gladdened to hear this, but not surprised. As she suspected, the Dark Lord would not harm a hair on His darling daughter's head- at least not in His rather narrow definition of the word. Still, Sabrina was obviously exhausted. She was barely able to stay on her feet, on the verge of losing her balance and collapsing to the ground again if Lilith hadn't been holding her up.

 

“Come on. We need to get you to bed,” she told Sabrina, gently pushing her in its direction. The second Sabrina laid eyes on it, she froze up and emotion flashed across her face for the first time since Lilith had seen her. It was pure terror.

 

“No!” she cried out, wriggling and trying to break away from her. In her weakened state, she had no success.

 

“You need to rest, Sabrina. You will feel much better once you do.”

 

Sabrina shook her head madly, still resisting her grasp.

 

“No, I can't sleep! He'll- He'll come back, He'll hurt me again, He'll-”

 

“The Dark Lord is occupied for the rest of the day. You will not be seeing Him for quite some time. And in that time, you must rest,” promised Lilith, trying to soothe the panicked girl with mixed success. Sabrina stopped struggling, but her eyes also began to take on that glazed look again, as though she were willing herself to be somewhere else.

 

Thinking quickly, Lilith waved a hand over her.

 

“ _Tenebris Somnum_.”

 

At this incantation, the girl's eyes immediately began to droop and she sagged against Lilith as the relief of sleep descended upon her.

 

“Ms. Wardwell...” she moaned under her breath, the words hardly decipherable.

 

“Shh. Sleep now, child. Put all your troubles on hold.”

 

With that, Sabrina's eyes shut and she went limp in Lilith's arms. She released her hold on her familiar, inadvertently dropping him to the ground. He landed on all fours and let out an indignant mew at his treatment, but Sabrina didn't wake.

 

Lilith lifted her (cursing her weak human arms as she felt the girl's full weight) and carried her over to the huge canopied bed, where she laid her down and pulled the crimson covers over her small form. The familiar leapt up next to his mistress, settled himself over her chest and glared at Lilith with green cat's eyes as though daring her to try anything malevolent.

 

 _Such dedication_. Her Stolas, the very first familiar of them all, betrayed her at every opportunity. She had a feeling this one would die before betraying his own mistress.

 

“She is fortunate to have you, goblin.”

 

The cat narrowed his eyes at this rare compliment.

 

As Lilith tucked Sabrina in, she felt strangely like a mother. And she was a mother- Mother to millions- but she had never tucked any of her “children” into bed. Nor had she read them any bedtime stories, or sang them lullabies, nor done any of the things that humans believed mothers were supposed to do. So it really was ironic that she was now being more of a mother to this wretched girl, her obligation, than she had ever been to any of her real children.

 

Ignoring the cat's warning hiss, she leaned over and stroked Sabrina's forehead while murmuring another spell.

 

“ _Dulce somnia, mi dulcis puella._ ”

 

The Realm of Dreams would now be the only place where Sabrina would truly know peace. The Dark Lord could rule over Hell and Hell on Earth, take over the entire universe, even conquer Heaven one day...but the land of dreams was one place where she knew His power was limited. He could never reach Sabrina there, so long as she didn't choose to let Him in.

 

It would be her one haven.

 

“Sleep well, dear girl,” breathed Lilith, and she disappeared.

 

* * *

 

 

“He can't keep us locked in here forever!” fumed Hilda.

 

The witch paced the cell in agitation, huffing at the exertion (she had never been one for physical activity) but still unable to let up in her anxiety. Zelda rolled her eyes from where she sat, having made herself as comfortable as was possible on the dungeon's hard, rough floor. Her younger sister really did say the silliest things sometimes.

 

“Of course He can. He is the Dark Lord. Who do you think is going to stop Him, should He decide to?”

 

They both went quiet at that, and Zelda regretted her question. It had been entirely rhetorical, for they both knew the answer; no one. No one could stop Him, no one could change His mind once He had made it up. They had learned that the hard way the night before. It was the very reason they were here now.

 

She had really hoped she wouldn't find herself back in the witches cells again so soon. It was bad enough last time, but her imprisonment was even worse now. Last time, she hadn't had Hilda for company. Secondly, at least last time they had provided her with a chair.

However, her own physical comfort was the least of her worries at the moment. Not when she knew her poor niece, her poor Sabrina, had it so much worse.

 

When the guards locked them in here, they had pounded on the door with all their might; screaming and shouting to be let out, to see their niece, to see the Dark Lord. Their cries had been ignored. They had persisted for several hours, until all of their energy was gone and they had collapsed in desolation and exhaustion. Hilda had sobbed while Zelda sat quietly, lost in thoughts of vengeance. Neither of them had been able to sleep, and Hilda eventually took to pacing in an effort to pass the time.

 

Now she responded to Zelda's question with an even more disturbing one.

 

“Do you really think He went through with it?” It came out as barely a whisper.

 

They both knew what she was referring to, and they both knew the answer to that question too; a resounding _yes_. This was the Dark Lord they were talking about, the very same being that all witches were required to pledge their souls and bodies to in exchange for their powers. If that also meant they were required to give themselves to Him in the more carnal sense too, then that was His prerogative. His Will was their desire.

 

She had never thought of it as evil before. They knew what they were signing up for, did they not? They knew it was expected of them and they accepted it. It was a small price to pay for all He could offer them- no, it was not a price at all, but an unholy blessing. But Sabrina had never chosen that path. They, the coven, Father Blackwood, and the Dark Lord Himself had pushed her towards signing her name.

 

And she, her aunt, the one who was supposed to be responsible for her safety, had failed to protect her from his predatory actions. Worse still, she had enabled it.

 

It was a horrible feeling, to be helplessly locked in here when she knew the person most dear to her heart was suffering. And while she knew the Dark Lord was the only one who was truly to blame, she couldn't shake the sense of failure from her conscience, not the least because the very culprit was the same Being whom she had worshipped as a god for most of her life.

 

“I blame myself,” she said, after another half hour of silence. It was something she could no longer deny to herself, nor to Hilda.

 

“Zels...” her sister began, reaching out a loving hand to console her. That was Hilda through and through. Always the one to comfort, always the one to heal, while she, Zelda, was always the one to harm.

 

“She was right all along.”

 

And Satan knows- no, she no longer even wanted to speak His name- Sabrina was so often wrong.  Even as she believed herself to be right about everything, in the way young people tended to. But she _had_ been right about the Dark Lord, just as she had been about Faustus.

 

“I pushed her into walking this path. I tried to force her to have her Dark Baptism even when she was expressing her doubts, instead of listening to them. I played along with Faustus's schemes. I-” And this was the worst of it, “-I said she had no choice.”

 

Hilda was saddened by Zelda's self-admonishment, trying to talk her out of it in her soothing way.

 

“Zelda...you _did_ give Sabrina a choice. You never forced her to have her Dark Baptism. You let her continue living her mortal life, even with the rest of the coven disapproving of it. You might have been grudging but you still accepted her decisions. She went and signed the Book all by herself.”

 

“I should have guided her more. Not pushed her.” Zelda turned from Hilda, not believing herself to be deserving of her sister's kindness. “I was too absorbed in serving the Church and bolstering the Spellman name to be attentive where it really mattered. That was why she ended up running to _that woman_ for guidance.” She spoke of Lilith with the purest venom.

 

In contrast, Hilda didn't seem to bear any ill feelings towards the Mother of Demons. Perhaps she understood what Zelda herself knew in her heart of hearts; that Lilith, just like them, had been played like an instrument.

 

“Well, what difference would it really have made? He was going to have her sign the Book and fulfil the prophecy and become the Queen of Hell one way or another, no matter what we did.” She squeezed Zelda's shoulder, her hand warm and comforting despite the cell's coldness.

“You've always put Sabrina above everything else. Everything you have done has always been with her best interests in mind. You might have made a few mistakes, but what guardian hasn't? There's no point in despairing about it now. It's the here and now that matters. Do you think Sabrina would want to see you beating yourself up like this? You know it would break her heart. She would want you to put on a brave face, just like you always do.”

 

She spoke of Sabrina almost as though she were dead. In a way, she was. Edward's daughter, their niece, their little girl, was gone. She had, or would, become...whatever He intended her to be. Most likely a puppet, His own personal doll to tote around and put on display when He felt like it, and toy with however He pleased.

 

Zelda knew first hand what it was like to be a puppet. And she would consign herself to the flames of Hell before she let Sabrina suffer the same fate.

 

“You're right, Hilda.” Again. “Self-pity will do nothing to help us. We need to be strong if we can ever hope to help Sabrina. It is what she would want, and it is what's best.” She got to her feet, brushing the dust off her smart black dress and looking around imperviously.

 

“Though we need to get ourselves out of this cell first.” That would pose a problem.

 

They were not even given time to launch into discussing ways to make this possible when, as though on cue, the cell door opened. The two of them wheeled around, half-expecting to find the Dark Lord Himself had come to torment them. In which case, let Him try. She was ready for it.

 

But reality was extremely underwhelming.

 

“Melvin?”

 

The young warlock stood awkwardly in the doorway, as though wondering how and why he had gotten there. Behind him, they could see he was accompanied by the same demon guards that dragged them down here the night before.

 

“Spellman sisters,” he said, looking rather guilty. “The Dark Lord has given orders for your release. He- He said He believes His point has been made.”

 

“Praise Satan,” Hilda muttered, with barely a hint of irony. Zelda nearly punched her.

 

“Does He not have the decency to face us Himself? The resolve?” She stepped toward Melvin, her death glare causing the boy to quail even though it was not directed at him. “Or does He simply lack the nerve?”

 

“Err...the Dark Lord is very busy. The demonic forces are at war with the mortals, and He is overseeing it. That's why I was given this task,” he stuttered out, avoiding her furious gaze.

 

Zelda nearly felt bad about giving him a hard time. The poor boy was only a messenger, not the target of her contempt. But she still felt far more sympathy for Sabrina as well as the many mortals who were undoubtedly being massacred at this very moment.

 

“Then we will go. But we expect to be allowed to see our niece, Sabrina, soon.” She said this loudly enough for the demon guards to hear before lowering her voice, her tone becoming more urgent as she addressed Melvin personally. “Have you seen her at all? Or heard any news of her?”

 

Melvin looked even more guilty at this. “No...no one has seen her since the coronation. She wasn't with the Dark Lord when He addressed His legions earlier, and He didn't mention her at all.”

 

Zelda sighed, though the news was not unexpected. If what she feared had really occurred then Sabrina was likely in no fit state to do anything.

 

Melvin cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at her. She could deduce that every second of this conversation was paining him. “There's...more. The Dark Lord has decreed that you are both free to go, but you and Ambrose are barred from the Academy until further notice.”

 

“What?!” Zelda and Hilda exclaimed at the same time, overcome with indignity at this unwelcome news. Such a punishment was technically a slap on the wrist compared to imprisonment in the earthly Hell that was the witches cells, but they knew the real reason for their banishment. To keep them away from Sabrina.

 

Melvin hung his head. “You need to leave now. I'm sorry. It was His orders and I have to follow them.”

 

Zelda believed him, and she forgave him for it. The Dark Lord on the other hand...

 

“Never mind that. We will leave, as our Dark Lord decrees.” She stepped out of the cell, throwing a poisonous glare at the demon guards. “But mark my words, this isn't the end of it. We will _not_ be kept from our niece. Come on, Hilda.”

She spoke briskly to her sister, who had dissolved into more tears and hadn't moved. While she would normally chide her sister for her emotional displays, she didn't have the heart to do it now. Hilda was only expressing what she herself felt too.

 

Instead, she held her sister's hand as they were led outside, ignoring the looks of sympathy they received from the coven members they passed. Zelda didn't want their pity, though she supposed it was an achievement that they cared enough to feel it. Most of them had shown nothing but contempt towards her before she and Hilda saved them all from poisoning.

 

When the Academy doors were slammed shut behind them, Hilda wasted no time in reaching for one of the handles to try it, even though they both knew what was going to happen. Sure enough, she immediately recoiled as her hand was burned at the contact. She then turned to Zelda, her face shining with tears that had nothing to do with the physical pain.

 

“What do we do now? The poor lamb is all on her own, with _Him!_ ” she practically wailed, torn between despair and anger. Zelda shushed her.

 

“Calm yourself. Until further notice, He said. There is still hope for us. But before we do anything else, we must go home and call an emergency family meeting. Ambrose must be wondering whatever happened to us.”

He had gone home after the coronation to help Prudence in tending to the remaining poisoning victims, and thus had been spared from the fiasco that occurred afterwards. In that respect, he was the most fortunate, though Zelda was not looking forward to relaying the night's events to him.

 

She would be lying if she said that being thrown out of the Academy of Unseen Arts, her former workplace and for a while, home, wasn't a humiliating experience. For so long it had been the centre of her world. And now in just two short weeks, that entire world had been turned upside down. Everything she had thought she knew and every belief she thought she held... had it all been a lie? She had been let down, _betrayed_ , by the two most important men in her life. The Dark Lord...and Faustus Blackwood.

 

It was difficult to decide which of them she hated more.

 

One thing was for sure though; she would never place all her hopes and dreams in a man again. She had hoped to gain everything from them, and now she risked losing it all instead.

 

The Church of Night. Her family. The two things most dear to her heart, and both had been compromised.

 

But she was Zelda Spellman, matriarch of the Spellman household. She had learned to rise above every setback that came her way. She saw no reason not to do the same now. She had made a promise to Sabrina the day before and it was a promise she intended to keep.

The Dark Lord would rue the day He ever decided to trifle with her family.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sabrina didn't want to wake up.

 

Her dreams were pleasant, idyllic, so very different from reality.

 

In her dreams, she was with Harvey. They were strolling through the woods behind her house, hand and hand as they often did. Golden sunlight streamed through the leafy tree branches, its dappled rays dazzling her eyes, which were still bright with hope for the future.

It had been an earlier time. A sweeter, simpler time, and she had been a sweeter, simpler girl. Still innocent and uncorrupted, skipping along the Path of Light instead of being dragged down the dark Path of Night. The prospect of signing herself over to Satan was still far away in the future, and the world had seemed like a better place for it. She thought she had her whole life ahead of her. A life of happiness and freedom to spend however she wanted, with whomever she wanted.

She hadn't known then how short that life would ultimately end up being.

 

She wished she could stay there, in Dream Harvey's embrace. If only she could turn the clock back and return to being that half-mortal witch with the dark secret once more. She would never take anything for granted again.

 

But it was too late for that, and she couldn't hide in Dreamland forever. Even as she refused to open her eyes and tried to will sleep to retake her, a shrill voice in her ear shook away the remnants of it.

 

“Queen Sabrina!”

 

Groaning, she opened her eyes to find herself staring into two bottomless pits.

 

With a startled squeak, she shot upright in bed and backed against the headboard, seeing that her rude awakener was none other than Lamia. The Lady of Serpents stood at her bedside, long red locks gleaming in the dim firelight. In one hand she held a laden tea tray, and with the other she idly scratched Salem behind the ear. He leaned into her touch, purring loudly at the attention.

 

Sabrina felt a bit betrayed by this.

 

“My apologies, Dark Lady.” Lamia beamed at her, sharp fangs showing and the smile not reaching her black eyes. “I wanted to let you sleep, but it's close to supper-time and I need to get you ready.”

 

“Supper?” Sabrina repeated back to her, still groggy with sleep. She looked to the clock by the fireplace, and saw to her mortification that it read eight-thirty.

 

_I've been asleep all day?!_

 

Lamia didn't seem to understand why Sabrina found this unusual.

 

“Why, yes. Mother said you were exhausted and not to wake you, so I left you to it.” Another toothy grin. “But the Dark Lord has requested your company for supper. As your dedicated handmaiden, the task falls on me to make you look beautiful for him. So up you get!”

 

If anything, hearing this just made Sabrina want to retreat back under the covers and never come out. She didn't even want to hear about Lucifer, let alone sit down and eat a meal with him. She hated him. She...she feared him. More than she had ever feared anything.

 

But she wasn't a child any more. She couldn't just hide under the covers when confronted by a monster, no more than she could run crying to her aunts for help. She had to face that monster head on.

 

She had to, because now her aunts were the ones who needed her help.

 

After quickly gulping down the tea Lamia had brought her, hardly caring about the possibility it might be poisoned, it was time to begin yet another beauty ritual. Lamia wasn't quite the guru that Ishtar and Hathor were, but she still knew what she was doing.

And during the long process of prepping and pampering her (she hoped this wasn't going to become everyday routine), she proved more talkative than the two of them and Lilith put together. She babbled away to Sabrina, flip-flopping between gushing about what a dishonor it was to serve her and how she looked forward to spending more time with her beloved Mother, and whining about not being part of the attack on humanity.

 

“I wish I could have seen it! So much blood! So much carnage! So many orphaned children, left all alone in the world...”

 

Sabrina said barely anything in response, only nodding and shaking her head at certain cues or giving the occasional “Hmm.” She had no desire to speak. She wasn't sure if she would ever feel that desire again. Lamia didn't seem to care; if anything, Sabrina's silence seemed to make her think she needed to say more to make up for it.

 

“From what I've heard though, it was a bit anticlimactic. Just twelve hours of the hordes wreaking havoc and the human leaders were willing to do whatever the Dark Lord wanted. And that's not even including the ones who are already in his thrall! Sometimes humans just make everything so _easy_ for us.”

 

So Sabrina had literally slept through the apocalypse. It was another thing to add to her long list of sins.

 

Lamia had already picked out an outfit for her; a flowing gown of crimson velvet with roses embroidered around its -rather low- neckline. Since the hideous coronation crown was mercifully only for ceremonial use, a wreath of roses was placed in her hair; similar to the one she wore the night before, only a bloody red instead of white.

 

Red roses were obviously the theme Lamia had decided on.

They also happened to be Sabrina's favorite flower, and she might have been able to summon up some enthusiasm over her makeover...had it been for any other occasion. But she had no interest in dressing up now. Not when she knew it was for _his_ benefit. She stared miserably at her reflection as Lamia put the finishing touches on her hair and make-up.

 

“There! You look delish- I mean, delect- I mean, _delightful_. Yes, that's the word I was looking for.”

 

Sabrina couldn't bring herself to so much as roll her eyes at Lamia's slip-of-the-tongue. There was no mirth to be found in anything any more. She didn't know if she could feel happy again. She didn't want to feel anything at all. It was the only way she could keep her thoughts from straying back to what happened the night before.

It was like being injured and unable to move without causing herself extreme agony. Or maybe even more accurately, it was the emotional equivalent of sustaining a bite from a snake and _needing_ to remain still, so as to keep the deadly venom from spreading through the bloodstream.

 

If she let herself think, let herself _feel_ , then the rest of her mind would be poisoned too.

 

Too soon, it was time to go to dinner. She followed Lamia out of her rooms and along the Academy corridors, drifting behind her like a ghost until the demoness whipped around and hissed at her, “I should be following _you_. You are the queen. I'm only a handmaiden.”

 

“I don't even know where we're going,” admitted Sabrina. It made no difference anyway. Wherever the Dark Lord happened to be was where she didn't want to go.

 

Lamia tittered as she fell back, walking behind Sabrina. “To the former headteacher's quarters. You know where _they_ are, right?”

 

Of course she knew. She had been summoned to Blackwood's office in disgrace enough times.

 

That all seemed like a different lifetime now. Even back then, she had never been as scared as she was now. Blackwood was a coward and a fool who could never intimidate her. That was probably why he had hated her so much, and tried to murder the entire coven instead of admitting defeat and bowing to her.

But he was inconsequential now. He was a dead man walking. If the Dark Lord wanted him dead, then that would be what he got. After all, the Dark Lord _always_ got his way.

 

As well-acquainted as she was with the study, she had never been invited to his living quarters. Despite his marriage to Aunt Zelda, he had certainly never considered her “family”, so she had never been invited in.

 

Never in a million years had she thought she would end up being summoned to dine with the Dark Lord there.

 

At the mere sight of him, the icy walls she had built up around herself threatened to shatter. _Don't think. Don't feel_. And whatever she did, she _couldn't_ let him know that being in his presence had her wreaked with terror, and the feel of his burning gaze on her velvet-draped form made her want to cower and hide. The dress she wore was quite conservative by the standards of modern mortals, but it suddenly felt far too provocative.

 

“Sabrina,” he greeted, lips curving in one of his self-satisfied smirks as he drank in her appearance. “Even on a tumultuous day such as this, you have never been far from my thoughts.” His obvious lust dimmed for a moment as he displayed phoney concern, his fingers brushing her cheek. “You slept well, I hope?”

 

Not wanting to speak to or even acknowledge him, but knowing he was expecting a reply and not wanting to anger him again either (this early anyway), she forced herself to nod. To her dismay, she saw Lamia slink from the room out of the corner of her eye. She never thought she would ever miss the company of a crazed child-eating demoness, yet here she was. Left alone with the Dark Lord once more.

 

It was all she could do not to flinch away when he took her hand in his and kissed it, before leading her over to the small dining table.

Dinner had already been served; a pot roast of some variety with succulent, tender-looking meat and sautéed vegetables. It smelled tantalizingly delicious...but there was no way she would risk eating it. She was not going to be tricked into committing cannibalism. She reached for the wine glass instead.

 

Lucifer wasted no time in launching into a diatribe regarding the day's victory, which she could tell he had been dying to gloat about to somebody. Unfortunately that “somebody” happened to be her.

 

“I will admit, even _I_ am surprised at how easy it was to establish Hell on Earth,” Lucifer said, not sounding surprised in the slightest. “I thought we would face opposition from the angels, but they seem to have been deterred by what you did to the Order of the Innocents. Probably biding their time...but we will be ready for them when they do decide to surface. They will not be invading any more witch establishments on my watch.”

 

She let most of his words pass right over her head as she sipped her wine, wondering how much she would need to drink to block out what was inevitably going to re-occur that night. The amount she had the day before unfortunately hadn't managed to cut it.

 

“As for the humans, they could barely even put up a fight. As expected. They may have managed to make a lot of progress in the last century or so...but it is too little, too late. Not to mention that most of it was only made because of the False God's waning influence on mortals. He prefers to keep _his_ people in ignorance, you see. To him, it is a virtue.”

 

Putting down the glass, Sabrina finally started to pick at her meal, leaving the meat while eating the vegetables. It was a testament to how famished she was that they were the best thing she had ever tasted. Well, she had been asleep all day and it wasn't as though she had eaten much at the banquet...

 

“Even so, most of the mortals remain entirely ignorant to what's going on. They still seem to think there is a chance that their False God will save them. They don't know him like I do. He hasn't bothered with any of his creations for thousands of years, so he will not be moving himself from his heavenly throne any time soon.”

 

At least dessert might be nice. Although it still wouldn't be anywhere near as good as the cakes baked by Auntie Hilda -No, she couldn't think about Hilda right now. It hurt too much.

Her poor aunts were locked in the dungeons now, because of her...while she was here eating dinner with the one who threw them in there.

 

“No...The days of him causing miracles and catastrophes are long gone. Why even bother with the latter, when his followers are so willing to do it for him?”

 

He carried on like this for a while, apparently either not noticing or not caring that it was a one-sided conversation. Sabrina made a point of saying absolutely nothing to him, just eating and ignoring everything he said...even things that she would normally have plenty to say in response to. Once she had eaten everything except the meat of questionable source, she put her cutlery down and took another, long drink of wine.

 

Noticing she had left a significant portion of her meal, the Dark Lord gave her a quizzical look.

 

“Are you not hungry, my queen?”

 

It was the first real question he had asked her since starting his yarn. Sabrina paused, looking down at her picked-at plate and avoiding his gaze.

 

“I don't eat meat.” She spoke in a quiet monotone, suddenly wishing he would start talking about world domination again. Or at least something that would take his focus off her.

 

“ _Really_? Well, that _is_ a shame. A poor, lowly mortal was killed for that meal, and you would let her death be in vain?” Sabrina's eyes widened in horror, her fears apparently proven correct. Overcome with nausea, she was about to push the plate away when he burst out laughing.

 

“I jest...it is venison, actually. You can eat it without feeling any of your human guilt. Oh, but you should have seen your face. It was priceless.”

 

His laughter was as cruel and cutting as his sense of humor. Once upon a time, she might have retaliated, but she could do nothing now; her heart was no longer in it. She remained quiet, staring down at her hands on the table in front of her.

 

“You need not starve yourself, little one. I am well aware of your objections to cannibalism. It must be your mortal side coming through. They tend to have...simpler tastes.” he told her, patronizingly, “But the demons of Hell are another story entirely. They favor human flesh, and it can sometimes be difficult to accommodate them. They enjoyed having free reign last night but now that the ceasefire has been called, they will be sure to become restless. We will have to come to some kind of...“arrangement” to ensure them a continued supply of prey.”

 

With this lovely new topic at hand, it was time for another diabolical monologue.

 

“Maybe it is just as well there will be plenty of opportunities for that. It could be the ideal way to deal with dissenters to the new regime. They will have to die anyway, so why let them go to waste?”

 

What he was proposing was so incredibly vile that while she had no doubt that he would go through with it, she suspected it was to get a rise out of her more than anything else.

 

She would be disappointing him.

 

“I am not unreasonable. I will give the False God's followers the chance to renounce him and submit to us instead. Some of them will take the opportunity. Many of them won't. They wish to be martyred, so it is only fair that I should oblige. I will have them watch as their children are devoured before their eyes, while they weep and tear their hair, and know they only have themselves to blame. And once their tears have drowned them, I may grant them the martyrdom they were willing to sacrifice their offspring for...or perhaps I will send them to toil under hard labour for the rest of their worthless lives, and keep them from their False God for a little while longer.”

 

Apparently his outspoken daughter's lack of response to this particularly heinous plan was the last straw for him. He sighed, putting his own knife and fork down.

 

“You are being awfully quiet. That is most unlike you, Sabrina. I would have expected you to launch into an angry tirade by now, or at least given me one of your usual wisecracks. Where has that defiance of yours gone, hmm? You seem very...down.” He reached out, sliding a finger under her chin.

 

“Speak to me. Tell me what will bring that spark back into your eyes, and reignite the fire in you. I want you to be happy, Sabrina. After all...” He let out a dark chuckle. “...You have certainly made _me_ very happy.”

 

Her stomach turned at this. Even as his grasp forced her to face him, she refused to meet his eyes.

 

“Nothing can make me happy.”

 

It was a lie. Or perhaps it wasn't. Truthfully, she didn't think anything could make her happy...but there were a number of things that would probably make her happi _er_. And she knew he would be willing to accommodate none of them.

 

 _Withdraw your forces. Return to Hell. Repair the damage you have caused. Put an end to your existence. None of those? Then at the very least,_ shut up _, and leave me to my sorrows._

 

She had never been more glad that the Dark Lord wasn't omniscient, and was therefore unable to hear these vindictive thoughts. Nonetheless, he seemed to understand that she wasn't being entirely honest with him.

 

“Spare me that nonsense. I know there is much you are after. You wish to hear about your aunts, don't you? They are fine. I gave orders to the coven for their release, since you have submitted yourself to me. I will let you see them soon enough if you continue to be a good girl.”

 

Her heart leapt, however slightly, at this news. So her aunts were OK. Her obedience had at least bought their lives and their (rather dubious) freedom, even though she was still apart from them.

 

And they themselves knew what the cost had been. Knowing they knew this, how could she ever face them? They would pity her, and she didn't want to be pitied. Zelda would probably blame herself, which wasn't fair, especially after her aunt had gone against everything else she believed in just to protect her.

It was almost a relief that she wouldn't be seeing them for a while.

 

A small smile had appeared at the news of her aunts; a very brief upturn at the corners of her mouth that barely lasted a second, but did not go unnoticed by Lucifer. Encouraged, he made her another offer.

 

“What about your mortal pets? You have always been very fond of them. Wouldn't you like to see _them_? I think they have been a bad influence on you myself, but I will indulge you on this. I will speak to Lilith about you taking a trip to Baxter High tomorrow. She still remains the principal of that place. Well, I suppose she needs a pastime.”

 

Sabrina stared at him, too stunned to speak.

 

“Oh, you are most welcome, Sabrina. Don't even mention it. But no matter...you can show me the full extent of your gratitude later on, my daughter...” he practically purred, touching her lips with his thumb.

 

Any joy she had felt from his announcement evaporated, replaced with overwhelming shame and revulsion. She instantly recoiled from him.

 

“Stop it!” She tried to shout at him...but it came out as a pathetic mewl.

 

“Stop what?”

 

“Just stop it! Stop making comments...like that, and then calling me your daughter in the same sentence!” she reiterated, louder and more forceful this time, the frozen walls she built up around herself cracking and melting. “What am I to you anyway? Your daughter, or your wife?” _Or your whore?_ she added silently.

 

Lucifer looked perplexed but not altogether displeased at her change in behavior. Indeed, he seemed far more entertained now that she was fully engaging with him, even though it was only to argue.

 

“Why not both?” he inquired.

 

Sabrina's mouth fell open in disbelief.

 

“Because that's just wrong! On so many levels!”

 

“Wrong on what levels?”  The Dark Lord remained unrepentant.  “The levels, the _rules_ laid down by the False God for his mortal sheep? We are not like them. We are much, much more than them. The False God only wishes to limit his creations' capacity to experience pleasure, even though he was the one who granted them that capacity to begin with. If you are going to insist on living by his laws then you would also have to accept that your cousin's decadency is worthy of death, and that that mortal friend of yours is an abomination...sentiments I'm sure you would strongly disagree with.”

 

Now _that_ was a low blow.

 

“That's completely different!” It was all she could bring herself to say, for there was so much wrong with his comparison that she didn't even know where to begin.

It was a feeble comeback nonetheless, and he was smirking as he resumed his tone-deaf attempt at self-justification.

 

“Not in the eyes of the False God. In his fickle mind, you are either perfect enough for him to consider worth “saving”...which very few people are. Or you are a sinner, in which case you fall into my domain instead. I have a lot to thank him for, really. I would never have been able to amass such a vast army of demons were he not so choosy about the souls he accepts into Heaven.”

 

“Not _everything_ is about the False God! I don't care for following his laws any more than I do for yours, and I won't be picking a side. There _is_ a difference, Dark Lord, but you just don't care to understand it.” She glared at him. “It isn't about following outdated moral codes, it's about what harms people and what doesn't. Ambrose isn't harming anyone, and neither is Theo. You, on the other hand- all your ideas of what “pleasure” is are harmful. You and I especially.”

 

She knew it was a futile argument. It wasn't as though he would care about what was harmful and what wasn't. This was a being who relished the suffering of others, and ruled over a realm where damned souls were sent to be tormented for all eternity. She would not be changing his stance any time soon. Her attempt at arguing with him was only for her own benefit, and her need to show some form of resistance even if it was only in words.

Even then, he could never fail to throw her for the loop.

 

“In what way have I harmed you?”

This seemingly genuine question of his was what caused her to lose it.

 

“ _In what way?_ Are you _kidding me_?!” She nearly screamed at him, slamming her fist down on the table. Her unexpressed rage and hatred towards him had been simmering inside of her like a potion in a cauldron, and it was threatening to spill over. “You want to know why I don't want to talk to you? Why I can barely stand to even be in the same room as you? Just _why_ I seem so “down”? Maybe, just maybe, it might have something to do with the fact that _you raped me last night_.”

 

She expected him to react to her accusation with anger, defensiveness or even denial. Any of those would have been preferable to what she got...which was outright dismissal.

 

“A fanciful human concept.”

 

“Wh-” Sabrina began, appalled anyone could even think that way. Then she remembered who she was speaking to. “It's not just a _concept_ , it's literally one of the worst things you can do to another person!”

 

To her fury, he snickered at this. “One of the _worst_ things? Now, now...let's not exaggerate. It shows just how little you have suffered in your short, sheltered life that you think last night was the worst thing that ever happened to you. Did I hurt you? Was I violent towards you? No; in fact, I showed considerable restraint as it was your first time and I would never wish to cause you unnecessary pain.”

 

The unbelievable nerve of him. First dismissing her without a care in the world, and now acting like she should be thankful towards him for not being crueller.

 

“It was still a _violation_. Physically _and_ emotionally.”

 

“Hmm...Violation. Defilement. Terms often used by followers of the False God. Tell me, do you know why rape has always been looked upon as such a terrible crime throughout human history? I will give you a clue; the woman's own _emotions_ had nothing to do with it. The transgression wasn't against _her_ , you see, but the men in her life. Her father, her husband or future husband, and of course the False God, who is so fixated on the purity of his mortal women. The crime was the damage to their property. Not any “harm” that was done to the woman.”

 

“Back _then_ , maybe. You might not have noticed while you were down in Hell, but we're not living in the Dark Ages any more. Women aren't property. We're our own beings, with rights over our own bodies. And it's not like _you're_ any better than the False God. You still expect witches to “save” themselves for you.” Trying to reason with him was making her weary.

 

“Only until their Dark Baptism. After that they are free to do whatever they want with their bodies. An opportunity most of them seem to relish.”

 

“Until you show up the night before their wedding and force yourself on them!” She hadn't learned of this barbaric custom until after Zelda's wedding. Neither her nor Hilda had seen fit to tell her about it before, probably because they knew deep down how disgusting it was. It was almost fortunate that the Anti-Pope's assassination had occurred before the Dark Lord's arrival. It wasn't as though she needed any more reason to hate Lucifer.

 

“No “force” is ever required. On the contrary, they pray for me to honor them with a visit. They long to be deemed worthy enough and are bitterly disappointed if I don't come for them. It is the deepest desire of every witch to lay with their Dark Lord,” he said, arrogance on full show. His eyes narrowed as he added, “ _You_ seem to be the only exception.”

 

“Because I'm your _daughter._ ”

 

“I have already explained to you why that is not a problem. Must I repeat myself?” A warning edge had crept into his tone, but Sabrina was too broken to heed it.

 

“But...but it's just _wrong_.”

 

“No, Sabrina...you just believe it to be wrong. Your fervent notion of good and evil, and desperation to always do what you consider “right” are your own worst enemy. In the end, the only reason you are so upset by what we did is because you have told yourself that that is the way you _should_ feel. Stop focusing on what your misguided morals tell you that you should feel. Instead, think about how you actually, truly, feel.”

 

She furrowed her brow in confusion, not initially understanding what he meant. What she truly felt? All she could feel for him was fear and hatred, and when he touched her- guilt, disgust and humiliation. There was absolutely nothing positive about it, unless...

Her face burned red with rage and embarrassment as she realized what he was implying. So _this_ was going to be his justification. Even for him, it was low.

 

She was about to retort, but he held up a finger before she could speak.

 

“You can lie to me and to yourself as much as you like. But you know well, as do I, that the physical part of you- the part not controlled by morality, or the illusion of right and wrong- revelled in my touch. Your words may be lies, your mind filled with false notions of shame. But your body will always betray you. And what its reactions told me last night, was that you enjoyed our consummation as much as I did.”

 

“That-” She was going to tell him how discredited his argument was, how physical reactions had nothing to do with one's true feelings. Her retaliation died on her lips when he spoke again.

 

“You can't deny how well our bodies fit together...How you gasped and shook with pleasure in my arms...The sweet way that you cried out for me...It was lovely. You simply don't realize how tantalizing you are. Together, we knew the highest unholy bliss last night.”

 

His voice was barely a murmur, but she trembled as though he had shouted at her. His sick, perverse words were stirring up memories she had been desperately trying to keep buried, and throwing salt into the mental wounds he had dealt her. She had been trying so hard not to think of it, but he was heavenbent on taunting her.

To make matters worse, his body language indicated he didn't just want to talk about it. His hand had found her leg under the table and was now squeezing her thigh, while his other hand gripped her arm to stop her flinching away.

 

“No...” She pleaded, knowing that she _couldn't_ go through it again. Not now. Not tonight, when her wounds hadn't even begun to heal. It would destroy her for good.

 

“Yes...or have you decided to forget? Should I remind you?” He tried to pull her towards him, and she was frozen on the spot, not knowing what to do, not knowing how she could escape him, until finally-

 

“No!”

 

She shoved against his chest as she screamed her protest. With her minimal physical strength, she was unable to move him an inch, pushing herself backwards instead and nearly toppling off her chair. She probably would have gotten up and backed away further if she could, but she didn't think her legs would be able to carry her. She nonetheless moved herself as far from him as possible, staring up at him with reproachful wide eyes on the verge of tears.

 

He looked more astonished at her sudden act of defiance than she had ever seen him. Evidently, no one had ever dared to spurn his advances with such impudence before...and he was not pleased. His own eyes flashed with anger at her audacity, which was apparently not what he was angling for when he decided it would be fun to tease her.

 

“You dare-” he hissed, making to grab her again, but it was Sabrina's turn to interrupt now. She was afraid but still unable to stop herself.

 

“ _It doesn't matter_ if I enjoyed it or not. It doesn't matter if you disagree with all the moral codes that say its wrong, and that you think yourself above good and evil. What matters is that I didn't want to, but you made me anyway. You didn't care what _I_ wanted, you still don't, and you never have. My entire life, you've been pulling my strings. You've never given me a choice or any say in my own destiny. You say you want me to be happy, but you _lie_. You couldn't care less about me or my happiness. All you want is for me to be your mindless, obedient slave with no free will of my own. You just-”

It was with this that her voice caught in her throat,“-You just want to control me.”

 

And she burst into tears.

 

She wept openly, no longer caring about the shame of breaking down in front of him. The last ounce of her resilience was spent on her tirade and now she could say nothing else. The frozen walls she built had fully melted and drowned her in the process. The cauldron had overspilled until there was nothing left. Her wrath had dissipated, and it had been replaced with despair.

 

Though she had cried in front of him before, both the previous night and the first time she encountered him, she had never cried like this. It wasn't just weeping, whimpering or sobbing, but full-on bawling. There was nothing dignified about it. Her eyes ran, her nose ran, her face was a blotchy mess of tears, mucus and smeared make-up. It was the ugly cry that had been coming ever since this whole fiasco started.

 

Her face was buried in her hands as she cried, practically hyperventilating in her anguish. She didn't look at Lucifer, who hadn't moved or said anything. She didn't know what he was thinking and frankly she didn't give a damn.

It wasn't until the worst of her heaving sobs had died down into smaller, hiccoughing ones that she felt a gentle hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair. The physical contact caused her to wince slightly, even though for once it seemed to be entirely innocent.

She ignored him, still not looking up. She was waiting for him to speak first.

 

He didn't.

 

Eventually, she had had enough. Still tearful, she moved her hands from her eyes so as to look at him properly and what was on his mind.

 

His anger had gone. He was gazing at her with what seemed to be...she wasn't even sure. She doubted it was pity- he probably wasn't capable of feeling any emotion that required the slightest ounce of empathy.

It was more...discomfort. Awkwardness, even. He was uncertain of how exactly to handle her when she was in this state, and she would guess he hated being uncertain even more than she did. He had never had to deal with anything like this before, that much _was_ certain. He might have caused tears and untold misery to many people but never before had to deal with the consequences, because before now, he never had any reason to.

After all, he had never cared about anyone but himself.

 

When he finally spoke, he was quiescent and conversational.

 

“You are wrong, you know. My desire isn't to control you. If I wanted a mindless slave as a consort, I would have given the crown to Lilith or one of her many demoness children. Any of them would have leapt at it...but none of them are worthy of being by my side. Only you are, my daughter.”

 

She sniffled at this, incredibly sceptical. He smiled in spite of himself as he twirled one of her silvery curls.

 

“Yes...by my side, Sabrina, not beneath me. I still require your submission, of course, as I do from all witches. That doesn't mean I want to strip you of your free will. On the contrary, I value _your_ free will in particular. Your input. Your ambitions, your desires, your ideas and thoughts. They are what make you suitable to rule at my side as my queen.”

 

Hadn't Blackwood spun her a similar story not so long ago? That if she joined the Church of Night, she would be free to question whatever she wanted, come up with her own answers, and challenge everything? Yeah...that had been a load of bull.

She did it anyway though.

 

And now here she was.

 

“There is a fire in you, Sabrina. The same fire that I saw in myself, when I made my stand against the False God all those years ago and established my own Kingdom of Hell. I have no wish to extinguish yours. And yet...” 

He frowned, letting go of her hair and taking in the tears that were still flowing down Sabrina's face, the shaking hands that she wiped them away with, and the utter despair in her wet eyes. “...Right now, I'm not seeing it.”

 

Abruptly, he stood up from the table.

 

“I will give you tonight to recuperate. Make your final visit to Baxter High tomorrow, and see your mortal friends. Tell them that you are the one they can thank for Greendale's safety. But upon your return, you _will_ cease this relentless self-pity. There's no reason for it. The world is at your feet and I need my queen to be joyous, not moping around like a wilted wallflower.”

 

As if it were that easy.

 

“I will see you tomorrow evening. When I do, I expect to see a smile on that beautiful face. Until then...”

For a moment, she thought he was going to try and kiss her. Possibly he did too, until he took another look at her tear-stained face and thought better of it. He settled for giving her white-blonde head one last stroke.

“Goodnight, my queen.”

And with those words, he was gone.

 

The Dark Lord had retreated. The King of Hell, who delighted in inflicting pain on humanity, had bought destruction and chaos to the world, and was responsible for the suffering of countless billions over the ages. But apparently the sight of his teenaged daughter having a crying fit was too much for him to cope with.

 

She would laugh, but all she could do now was cry.

 

What she couldn't comprehend was how someone so clueless, so incredibly lacking in self-awareness, could possibly have come so far. Could have managed to amass enough power and followers, both witches and demons, to take over the world. Had he never listened to himself? Didn't he realize what a raging hypocrite he was, or was that something else he didn't think applied to him?

 

Asking her why she was upset, but absolutely refusing to listen to her when she told him why. Getting bored when she was docile and silent, and then angry when she tried to stand up for herself. Telling her he didn't want to control her, and then just seconds later not only telling her what to do but how she should _be_.

 

She couldn't understand him.

 

But no one knew how the Dark Lord's mind worked. They could only guess.

 

There was one thing that she did know though. And that was that she couldn't spend the rest of eternity the same way that she had spent the last day. It might not be the fire and brimstone Hell that mortals liked to speak of, but it was its own type of Hell nevertheless.

 

What had become of the defiant girl who walked into the throne room? Back then, she had still hoped she could rise above it all. She had sworn she would never end up helpless and submissive like Lilith. She had had a plan... But now she could barely even remember what it was. Something involving sealing him in the Acheron Configuration.

As though that plan ever had any chance of working in the first place. She didn't even have any powers left to cast the trapping spell, and she wasn't going to try convincing another witch to do it for her. She didn't need more blood on her hands when the plan inevitably failed.

Besides, she didn't even have anyone to help her at the moment anyway. She was all alone in the world, isolated from everyone she loved.

 

Though...the Dark Lord had said she could see Harvey, Roz and Theo the next day. That was something, right?

 

But that was the problem. She was torn. She missed them dearly, but at the same time the prospect of seeing them after everything that had happened to her gave her a horrible feeling in her chest, like her heart was being crushed under the weight of the shame and disgrace. She was stained, polluted. What could she possibly tell them? Never the truth. They would never look at her the same way again. She would have to lie to them, like she had done so many times before, and pretend to be OK when in reality she was anything but.

 

But even then, how could they not resent her at all? She was the shadow maiden who had bought on the apocalypse that brought about the end of their world, the very symbol of the Earth's destruction. They might try to accept her at first, but sooner or later they would end up hating her. Her being a witch had nearly caused her to lose Harvey and Roz's trust- they would never be able to trust the Queen of Hell.

 

It was better that she broke things off with them when she saw them tomorrow. It would save them all a lot of pain in the long run.

 

The Path of Night stretched out before her. She had once thought of it as a winding, treacherous path, filled with hidden dangers but also many hidden wonders and mysteries waiting to be discovered. But now she saw it differently. She saw it as it truly was; a long, straight, barren road leading off into the distance; endless and infinite, just like her future. Where she had once had hope for the future, now there was nothing but dread.

 

Life was over. She was in Hell, and it was a Hell of her own making.

 

Sabrina wept.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh...if writing the last chapter was a doozy then writing this one was a slog. I'd say this is probably my least favorite one so far. But that's me.  
> It ended up being a lot more depressing than I meant too, I wanted to write something a bit more hopeful at first. Still Zelda and Hilda are free now so there's that.  
> Zelda was originally meant to have a much bigger part but I decided to move most of her scene to the next chapter, which is just as well considering how long the chapter went on for anyway.  
> In case people are wondering why reverential capitalization is used for the Dark Lord in Lilith and Zelda's sections, but not in Sabrina's...it's mainly out of laziness on my part. In the official script he's ALWAY referred to with capitalized pronouns but I decided not to do that all the time because I thought it would get EXTREMELY jarring after a while (and I'd definitely slip up a lot XD). I decided to go with it for Lilith and Zelda because they have both worshipped him for most of their lives whereas Sabrina hasn't. Since a majority of the story is probably going to be Sabrina's POV, that saves me from having to do it too often.  
> Writing that argument between Sabrina and Lucifer caused me to lose most of my will to live.  
> In case anyone hasn't noticed, I have changed the rating on this to Mature. I'm still not going to be writing anything graphic but with all of the allusions being made, I decided it was better to be safe than sorry.  
> I'm sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. I think it's unlikely that I'm going to be able to update any more frequently than once a month unless it's a much shorter chapter. Still, this ended up clocking out at well over 12000 words so I think I have some excuse for taking so long. Then again not much actually happens in those 12000 words so maybe not. :P  
> Anyway, a huge thanks to everyone who has kudosed, suscribed, bookmarked or reviewed! 😄 I hugely appreciate it! Thank you!


	5. A Hopeless Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY.

 

“Unholy shit.”

 

Ambrose's face was in his hands as he uttered these words, the crassness of them undermined by the despair in his voice.

 

Zelda had finished telling him about all that had transpired the night before. He had set upon her and Hilda the second they appeared in the living room, in a state of panic. He and Prudence had been awake the entire night and most of the day waiting for them to return, with Prudence only receiving vague snippets of what was going on from her Sisters.

None of what they heard had sounded good. It was now common knowledge among the coven that the Spellman sisters had managed to anger the Dark Lord enough to be consigned to the witches cells...but the fate of their new Queen remained a mystery.

 

Suspecting the worst, Ambrose was initially relieved to see his aunts return unharmed. Neither of them wanted to be the one to break the unfortunate news to him but as the eldest, Zelda had taken it upon herself. It was all she could do not to break down in tears herself while relaying it...like Hilda currently was.

As expected, he had not taken the news well.

 

“Poor Sabrina. I knew He was a sick bastard, but this...”

 

All three Spellmans had been fearing something like this happening from the moment the prophecy came to light. Ambrose had been unable to hide his disgust then as he told them about the Dark Lord's plans to rule the world with Sabrina as His queen, and Zelda had been beside herself with shock.

 

“ _How? What? As his child bride?”_

 

Sabrina had turned to her then, a look of fear on her face that Zelda had never, ever wanted to see. It was fear towards...her.

 

Zelda had never shared her sister's mind-reading skills. Yet she knew that in that second, Sabrina had truly feared she would announce her approval for the Dark Lord's plans. That she, the Dark Lord's most devout follower, would insist Sabrina comply with His wishes and become His queen.

After all, it would mean the Spellmans being elevated to a level of greatness that no witch family had ever been before, and had Zelda not always made it her goal to bolster the family name? Had she not always taught Sabrina that it was every witches purpose to serve the Dark Lord? Surely this would be welcome news to her.

 

But she hadn't lied after the Feast of Feasts either, when she promised Sabrina that even if the Dark Lord Himself were to demand her life, she would never let Him take her. Even then, she had known the truth; that she loved her family more than she would ever love Him. Family always came first in her book.

 

Of course, she had never thought the situation would ever arise where she had to make good on her promise.

 

Nevertheless, the Spellmans had all agreed on one thing for once, and that was that they could not possibly let Him have His way. They would stand together and protect Sabrina, even though it meant standing against the One to whom they had pledged their souls. So when all their efforts turned out to be in vain, and Sabrina had ultimately caved in and gone with Lilith to meet Him, they had spent the most tense hour of their lives waiting for her to return...unsure if she ever would.

 

Zelda was filled with regret then, cursing herself for letting Lilith talk her into going. She had sworn to defend her niece, yet had been unable to bring herself to challenge the Mother of Demons. She had let her niece walk away, to face her possible doom, alone. No sooner had she walked out the door than she wished she had done more to stop her.

Horrifying visions of Him hurting Sabrina had filled her head. She had feared that He would do to Sabrina what He had tried to do to her the night before her wedding...and what Faustus had done to her afterwards.

She had even feared that Sabrina, being the stubborn and outspoken girl that she was, would do or say something to invoke His wrath and that would be the end of her.

 

At least those fears had been unfounded. Sabrina returned sooner than they expected, dejectedly telling them of His revelation to her, and Zelda felt the briefest flicker of relief.

 

Sabrina was His daughter. His interest in her was not lustful at all.

 

But that flicker had quickly died out when she remembered that this was the Dark Lord they were talking about. Had they not always been taught that He was above good and evil? As such, why would the social taboos of humanity serve as any deterrent to Him...particularly when said taboos were also a rule laid out in the False God's scripture?

 

If anything, the very wrongness of it would be part of the appeal for Him.

 

“We knew well what He was capable of. We just never thought He would come for us.”

Or ever at all. All witches had heard tales of the apocalypse, had it preached to them from the pulpits of their desecrated churches. It was something they were supposed to be awaiting eagerly. But none of them had ever truly thought it would happen, let alone thought about what it might really entail.

“And now that He has, only one option remains to us.”

 

She studied each of them; Hilda's tearful, anxious face; Ambrose's crestfallen one; and Prudence, who looked as though she were uncertain if she even belonged there.

Zelda couldn't help but spare some concern for her. Her father's betrayal had obviously effected her deeply, and the once-haughty witch had become a shadow of her former self. It was something Zelda could understand all too well, having suffered her own betrayal at the hands of Faustus Blackwood. She would need to have a proper chat with her at some point, to lend her support, but there were other pressing matters to deal with at the moment.

 

Including one in particular.

 

“We must find the Spear of Longinus.”

 

Her announcement was met with stunned silence. Prudence looked entirely blank, while Hilda and Ambrose shared startled looks. They knew what she was talking about; they had all heard the Dark Lord mention it the day before. But evidently neither of them had considered locating it to be a real possibility.

 

“The spear of Longinus?” Hilda stuttered, staring at Zelda as though she had lost her mind. “Are- Are you quite serious?”

 

“Perfectly. You heard what He said. It is the only thing able to kill Him. If we can locate it, then we will be able to use it to end His miserable existence for once and for all.” Then she could at least ensure that Sabrina would never have to suffer at his hands again.

 

“You want to _kill_ the Dark Lord?” Prudence gasped, able to understand that much of their conversation at least.

 

“We have no other option.”

 

“But He's the _Dark Lord,”_ Prudence reiterated, as though Zelda could have ever forgotten.

 

“Yes.” That was all she had to say in response to that. Prudence looked even more aghast at this show of indifference from a former devotee.

 

“You would try to destroy Him? Our God, the one who liberated us from the False God's tyranny and bestowed us with the gift of magic?”

She glanced around at Hilda and Ambrose, possibly looking for some voice of reason among them. When neither of them said anything, she turned back to Zelda, though edged away from her slightly as if worried whatever madness had gripped her might be contagious.

“Has the world gone insane? First Father, and now you? Do none of our beliefs mean _anything_ to anyone?”

 

Zelda sighed, knowing how bizarre the situation must look to her. She never would have believed it herself, had someone ever predicted to her that she would one day be here proposing to kill the Dark Lord.

 

“Prudence, I understand your misgivings. It seems like a betrayal of everything we have ever known and stood for. We have been told that the Dark Lord is the most important thing in our lives, and we must place Him above all else. But you know very well that His plans for the world are catastrophic. Not just for mortals but for our kind too. The best we can hope for under His rule is an eternity of slavery under the harsh rule of Hell's masses. Is that the future you wish for? For yourself; for your Sisters; for baby Leticia and Judas?”

 

She knew she had found Prudence's weak spot when she saw the young witch waver, uncertainty filling her eyes as she contemplated Zelda's words.

 

“...No,” she finally admitted.

 

“Then you must understand that _we have no other option_. It's either that, or being at His mercy for the rest of time...and He has no mercy.” If He would not even show mercy to His own daughter, then what reason would He have to show benevolence to anyone else? “Unless you believe the _False God_ will have mercy on us?”

 

Prudence's eyes flashed with fury at the mention of Him, and Ambrose and Hilda both tensed too. As desperate as the unique situation they found themselves in was, one simple fact remained the same; the False God was their enemy. The Dark Lord also becoming their enemy didn't make Him their friend. The mere idea of them, the Children of Night, seeking His help was beyond comprehension; as unnatural as fire and water mingling together. It was simply not to be done.

 

“We have no need of the False God's so-called “mercy.” She practically spat.

 

“Then we have to take matters into our own hands. I'm not going to stand idly by while He abuses my niece. I won't accept it. I know you and Sabrina don't get along, but even you must realize that she doesn't deserve such a fate.”

 

Prudence flinched as Zelda spoke of her on-off friend, and what might have been guilt flashed across her face. Zelda was sure that while Prudence may not be able to relate to Sabrina on a personal level- particularly considering that becoming the Dark Lord's queen had long been her dearest ambition- she could also understand that the situation Sabrina was in was far from enviable.

 

“O-of course not, I wasn't-”

 

“Then understand, Pru.” Ambrose took her hand, sympathetic but also resolute. “We love Sabrina. And we quite like this world too. We don't want to see either enslaved by Him. So even if you don't wish to help us in defeating Him, then at least accept our decision and keep our silence.”

 

Prudence still looked apprehensive over their plans, but Zelda and Ambrose's words had apparently swayed her.

 

“I do understand. I know you love Sabrina, just as I love my Sisters, who would be dead if it weren't for you. I'm not about to betray you to the Dark Lord after that.” She seemed to be hesitating over what she was going to say next, before finally going ahead with it. “I might not be able to help you find this spear you speak of, but I can still help you. _You_ have been banned from the Academy but I don't think I have. Maybe I could go and check on her for you...?”

 

It was a brave and considerate offer...and Zelda was going to have to decline it.

 

“Absolutely not. You probably wouldn't even be permitted to see her and if you go there, who says you will come back alive? Your father is currently being hunted by the Dark Lord for high treason, and He may consider you guilty too just for being related to him. You're staying here until we know He won't destroy you on sight.”

 

A less cynical person than herself might have also feared Prudence would use the opportunity to rat them out to the Dark Lord in the hopes of regaining His favor. But Zelda knew Prudence, and she was sure that her attempts to help were sincere. And that was the very reason she didn't want Prudence to risk her life by going.

 

“Actually, that is one thing you don't need to worry about-”

 

They all whirled around to see Lilith had materialized, having made herself at home on one of their armchairs. “-I happened to overhear Sabrina and the Dark Lord discussing that very topic. He is most displeased with your father and held a rather unfavourable view of you too, but she was able to talk Him out of it. He all but promised her that He would pardon you. Still, I would recommend keeping your distance until He summons you to make it official. I imagine it will be during-”

 

Her speculation over whenabouts Prudence would be pardoned was cut off when she was forced to hold up her hand- to deflect the Spellman's antique teapot, which had just been hurled at her head. It froze in the air, before falling to the ground and shattering. That loud sound was nothing compared to what came next.

 

“You have some _gall_ showing your face here!” shouted Zelda, the one who had thrown it.

 

“I-” Lilith began, in vain. Zelda wasn't about to let her get a word in.

 

“Don't even try! Nothing can excuse your actions! I don't know how you can sleep at night- if your kind do sleep- knowing what you have done. Are you proud of yourself? How does it feel, demoness, to have been the accessory in the rape of a defenceless child?!”

 

A collective shiver ran through everyone in the room at the brutality of her accusation. Lilith had the grace to look guilty, though not nearly enough in Zelda's opinion. When she opened her mouth to speak, it was only to try and make more excuses.

 

“I was not-” she tried again, but was quickly interrupted once more.

 

“Oh yes, you were. You led Sabrina like a shepherd leading a lamb to the slaughter. Last night, _and_ these past few months. You must have known what would happen to her; don't you dare try and tell me you didn't.”

 

Now somewhat exasperated, Lilith remained quiet for a few moments. No one else said anything either, with Prudence remaining uncomfortably out-of-place while Ambrose and Hilda were torn between what appeared to be pity and resentment towards Lilith. When Lilith opened her mouth again, tentatively, Zelda finally decided to let her speak.

 

“As I have said before, _I_ was supposed to be the Dark Lord's queen, not Sabrina. I was as unaware as you as to what His true intentions were. I thought He only wanted her to be-” She stopped herself that time, no longer looking like she wanted to continue.

 

“To be what?” Had Zelda's tone been any colder, the windowpanes might have frozen over. “His servant? His _slave_? His handmaiden, much like yourself?” Lilith did not deny it. Zelda's eyes hardened, the icy cold fury in them surely enough to cause frostbite.

 

“I see. So you were hoping that you would be able to foist your own role onto Sabrina while you stepped up and took the crown. You hate what your own life has become, yet you were perfectly content to lead a young girl down the same disastrous path. Oh, you might not have known He planned to make her His queen, but you were still willing to offer her up to Him for your own self-gain. And _that_ makes you no better than Him.”

 

As far as she were concerned, it was the worst insult she could have dealt anyone. Though Lilith kept her composure, the hands she had neatly folded on her lap were trembling as she attempted to justify herself.

 

“I am not proud of my actions. There is very little I've done in my service to the Dark Lord I could truly say I am proud of.” Zelda raised her brows questioningly at this, but Lilith ignored her as she continued.

 

“I've taken countless innocent lives, corrupted the hearts of many, devoured the flesh of the living and the dead alike, and tormented countless souls the way a cat toys with their prey. So many acts the mortals would consider to be the purest evil...but have also been necessary for my own survival. In a long lifetime of wickedness, why would corrupting one more innocent soul stand out? Sabrina might mean the world to you, but to me she was just another obligation the Dark Lord had handed me. A task I had to complete if I ever hoped to amount to anything in His eyes. And while I felt no joy over sacrificing another for my own gain, selflessness is a luxury we tend to lack in Hell. It's every woman for herself.”

 

Hilda had let her sister take the lead in the conversation up until now. However, upon seeing that she had nothing but scorn in her expression in response to Lilith's tale of woe, she decided it was time to let her own voice be heard before Zelda caused the demoness to lose her patience entirely.

 

“It doesn't have to be though. That's what He wants us to think, isn't it? Men like him are always pitting us against each other, always encouraging us to throw each other under the bus if it means raising ourselves. And we always fall for it. But if you help us find the Spear of Longinus, help us defeat him, then not only will you be saving yourself but also Sabrina, along with everyone else in the world,” she said, with surprising gentleness.

 

At times like these, Zelda realized just how much she underestimated her little sister. Hilda might lack the charisma and natural ambition that she herself possessed, but she was no fool. Both of them understood the lengths women would go to in order to succeed in a male-dominated world, even when it meant tearing other women down.

She had seen Constance Blackwood do it, and Shirley Jackson and despite being fully aware of it, had fallen into the trap of doing it herself. She couldn't help but do it.

 

She had preoccupied herself with vilifying Lilith when the true enemy was, and had always been, the Dark Lord.

 

“Hilda makes a good point. Instead of continuing to serve Him, help us get rid of Him. Then once He is gone, there will be nobody to stop you from taking the crown of Hell for yourself.”

 

It was the closest thing to a peace offering she could make...but Lilith just shook her head woefully.

 

“We have no hope of defeating Him. We have already failed once, and any further attempts would be suicidal.”

 

And with that, any hope she had for Lilith disappeared.

 

“What a let down you are.”

 

Zelda didn't take any heed of the warning glances Hilda and Ambrose were giving her. She only stared straight at Lilith, disappointment etched onto every corner of her face.

 

“Ever since I was a little girl, I have looked up to you. Idolized you almost as much as the Dark Lord Himself, even. How could I not? You were the brazen witch who chose to be cast out of the Garden of Eden rather than be the help-meet of Adam and his False God. You braved the wilderness all alone for all those years, went on to become the Dark Lord's most trusted dependant, and the Mother of Demons. All I could think when I first heard your story was what a brave and inspiring woman you were. The sort who would never submit to tyranny or let a man walk over her.

 

“But looking at you now, I see that whatever defiant streak you had in you then is long gone. You've sold your freedom, your principles, your very soul; all for the vague promise of power, and what do you have to show for it? In the end, all you have managed to do is trade one slaver for another.

“And since you're clearly not interested in helping us or anyone other than yourself, then I see no reason for you to be here. I already have a good mind to tell the Dark Lord all about your part in our squirmish yesterday-”

 

Lilith was the one to raise her brows now. “I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

 

“Oh? And why not?”

 

“Because while I may not be about to risk what little I have left in your fool's errand to find a mythical spear, I'm still of more help to you than you might think.”

Though Zelda's speech had obviously shaken her, she had wasted no time in regaining her bearing, her usual smugness seeping back into her demeanor.

“If you tell the Dark Lord about my treachery, I'm sure He will waste no time in banishing me to the deepest darkest pit of Hell. And if that happens, why, then who will watch over your niece for you? She is already isolated from everyone else she cares about. If I go, then she will have no one. Well, no one except my dear daughter Lamia, and I think she would prefer no one. Lamia is not the most soothing of presences.”

 

Zelda and Hilda exchanged worried glances at this. They didn't know Lamia at all but from what they had seen of her and read about her in the Demonomicon, she wasn't a creature they wanted to let anywhere near their niece, let alone care for her during what was an already-traumatizing time.

 

“You may think of me as a monster, but at least I understand what it's like to be victimized. I can empathize with her, to an extent, and while there's little I can do to improve the situation itself, I can at least help you provide her with some closure,” said Lilith, with more thoughtfulness now.

She got to her feet and took a small step towards Zelda, with the air of someone approaching a wild animal they thought might attack them.

“Write her a message and I will deliver it to her. It's a small thing, but hearing from you will bring her some much needed comfort...which she sorely needs at the moment.”

 

This seemed...unusually generous, especially considering the tirade she had just unleashed on her, and Zelda suspected ulterior motives. Lilith was a demon after all, _the_ Mother of them all, and demons never did anything for anyone out of charity. There was always a price.

 

“How do we know you're not going to pass whatever message I give you to the Dark Lord?” she asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

 

Lilith simply smiled at this reasonable assumption. “You don't. But you already asked why you shouldn't tell on me, and I gave you the reason. So as you can see, it would not be in my own best interests to spill the beans on you either. It will be like a stalemate between us.”

 

Zelda took this into consideration. Just as they didn't have anything to gain by betraying Lilith, it was not as though she had anything to gain by turning them in either. She had already lost her crown and by the sounds of things, that was all Lilith had ever wanted. The only thing she could hope to gain from it was Sabrina's undying hatred.

 

That, and revenge on the one whom she felt stole the crown that was rightfully hers?

 

….She was going to have to be _very_ careful what she put in this letter.

 

For in spite of her misgivings, this was one offer she couldn't decline. Sabrina needed their help now more than ever, and if they couldn't see her in person then it would have to be in writing. “Very well, but _don't_ think this alone is enough to absolve you.”

 

With another distrustful glare, she pulled Hilda and Ambrose into the next room to talk about the matter more privately. She didn't know how acute Lilith's hearing was- demons usually had heightened senses but she doubted that would be the case when she was in a mortal's body.

 

Still, the three of them discussed Lilith's offer amongst themselves in hushed whispers. Hilda was all for it but Ambrose, like Zelda herself, had his doubts over Lilith's sincerity. They eventually decided that in case Lilith did betray them or the note ended up falling into the Dark Lord's hands, they would say nothing of their plans to find the Spear of Longinus, nor anything that implicated they were acting against the Dark Lord at all.

 

That this was the only way she could now communicate with her own niece- with a hidden note, devoid of any conscientious details, smuggled to her by one of her jailers- was enough to drag her soul into the depths of despair. She should be holding Sabrina in her arms, consoling her, just as she had done when she had broken up with that silly mortal boy. What a first-world problem that seemed like now.

 

Those should have been the only problems Sabrina ever had to face in her life. Nothing like this.

 

Her niece was suffering, all alone; just how _she_ had done while she was trapped under the Caligari spell, only Sabrina was just a child. Her own child, the one she had sworn to protect with her life. That was something the Dark Lord could never understand, nor Faustus Blackwood. Blood meant nothing without love; nothing when the child was only a means to an end. And when you saw your child as someone that you wanted to force to fit your own image, with no regard for who they were as an individual, then that wasn't love at all...except towards oneself.

 

She would be lying to herself if she said she had never tried to push Sabrina in any particular direction. But at the same time, she had always made it clear to her that she could be whoever she wanted to be, because all she wanted was for Sabrina to be happy.

 

And that was why, no matter what the Dark Lord tried to do, no matter how much He tried to coerce or manipulate or threaten Sabrina, He would never be able to force her to see herself as His own. He could never change the fact that the Spellmans were her true family...not Him.

 

Even when this was now all they could do for her.

 

She began to write.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Queen Sabrina?”

 

Sabrina looked up from the tabletop where she had been sobbing face down for what must have been the last half-hour, to see Lamia standing over her. It was difficult to decipher the demoness's true expression with the black pits she had for eyes, though she seemed bemused as she took in Sabrina's tear-stained face, smudged make-up, and the half-empty plates still on the table.

 

“Oh dear...did it not go very well?”

 

Sabrina dried her eyes.

“...It could have gone better,” she sniffled, taking a dinner napkin to blow her nose with.

 

 _It also c_ _ould have gone much worse._

 

“Oh, that's a shame...” Lamia trailed off for a second, at a loss for words. She quickly perked up again. “Well, never mind! But you've barely eaten anything. Was the food bad? Should I get you something else?”

 

“Um, no thanks. I think I lost my appetite.” Sabrina couldn't have been awake for more than a couple of hours, but she already just wanted to go to bed and hide from the world. She desperately hoped the Dark Lord would keep his promise about leaving her alone for the night. If she was doomed to an eternity of rape and abuse, then she had better make the most of this one.

 

_He'll probably get bored with me eventually._

The thought didn't comfort her as much as she would have liked.

 

When she and Lamia returned to her rooms, they were greeted by Salem. The black cat leapt off the bed where he had been snoozing and ran up to Sabrina, meowing and purring while rubbing against her legs. She leant down to stroke him, her mood lifting very slightly at the sight of her beloved familiar. At least she still had him, even if she was being kept apart from everyone else she loved.

As she pulled him into her arms and straightened up again, she saw that Lilith had also made an appearance.

 

Her heart sank at the sight of her, while Lamia's deceptively cherubic face lit up in joy.

 

“Mother!” She rushed forward to greet Lilith, chattering away and not noticing that her “mother” wasn't nearly as enthused to see her.

 

Sabrina hung back, immersing herself in making a fuss of her familiar and trying not to remember their encounter that morning. It was embarrassing that her former teacher had seen her in such a state. It must have seemed so weak and pathetic in the eyes of an ancient, powerful demoness. She winced even more as she remembered what she had said to her the day before (Satan, was it that recently? It seemed like weeks ago.)

 

“ _And why do you serve him? Even now?”_

 

“ _It's all I've known.”_

 

“ _What a terrible, weak reason.”_

 

She was so condescending, so sure of herself back then. She had felt sorry for Lilith but as far as she was concerned, the demoness had brought everything upon herself. Not only had she stayed with him but she was carrying out his evil plans for him and in her own simple mind, that meant Lilith was evil too or a coward.

 

But who was the weak one now? If she had been reduced to this already, after just one day, then what would she be like after several thousand years? A completely different person...being. An emotionless robot, or possibly even an evil demoness too. It was a fate she wanted to avoid at all costs, but with no further plans against the Dark Lord on the agenda, it seemed like an inevitable outcome.

 

Lilith was eventually able to tear herself away from her talkative daughter and make her way over to Sabrina and Salem. One look at her student's expression apparently told her everything she needed to know, as her eyes softened in what might have been sympathy.

 

How the tables had turned.

 

“I would like to say it gets better...but that would be a lie.” She patted the downcast Sabrina on her arm. “Still, it becomes more manageable with time, and you might be spared the worst of his cruelty. He will have less cause for wrath now he has what he wants.”

 

The words were probably intended to console, but they only made Sabrina feel even worse. If she had been receiving his “kindness” so far, then she could imagine what it was like to be the target of his wrath. She was sure to end up invoking it at some point. When she did, she could only hope that it was her who ended up suffering for it...not anyone she loved.

 

“At least he let my aunties go,” she said, more to herself than anyone else.

Something flashed across Lilith's face when she heard Sabrina's words, as though she were about to say something in response before stopping herself. Looking over to where Lamia was, she called out to her, with all the sweetness of sour honey.

 

“Lamia, be a dear and go fetch our queen a camomile tea from the kitchens.”

 

The child-like demoness, eager to please, immediately disappeared off to fulfil her mother's orders. Sabrina hadn't given Lilith any indication that she wanted or needed tea (she felt more like drinking absinthe if anything), and suspected this was more an excuse to get rid of Lamia than anything else. Her suspicion was confirmed when Lilith turned back to her.

 

“I visited your aunts earlier.”

 

Sabrina's eyes widened at this unexpected news. “You did?” More questions came flooding out, her concern over her family surfacing. “How are they? They weren't mistreated when they got taken away, were they? And what about Ambrose? I didn't see him after the coronation. He didn't get thrown in the cells too, did he? And what about-”

 

Lilith held up a hand to shush her. “They are all fine...but very worried about you.”

 

Of course they were. And all their worries were well-founded. That didn't make this news any more welcome to Sabrina though.

 

“What did you tell them?”

 

“The truth.”

 

It was a short yet brutal reply, and Sabrina wilted when she heard it. “I wish you hadn't...” she murmured, looking down at the ground in shame.

 

She still felt disgusting, polluted, and sure that she was now forever tarnished in her family's eyes. She knew they wouldn't blame her for what happened, but they would _pity_ her, and being pitied was almost _worse_ than being blamed. She had suffered the ire of her aunts more times than she could count and had felt a savage sense of justification each time, _especially_ when it was Zelda whom the quarrel was with.

 

But their pity...well, that was something else entirely. She had to have really screwed up to be able to earn that.

 

“They already knew it themselves. Any attempt at sugar-coating would have only made them more worried at what I was trying to hide.”

 

Sabrina couldn't deny Lilith's affirmation. She was very aware of how astute her aunts were; even Hilda, whom people often made the mistake of underestimating, could detect any bullshit from a mile off, and chances were that they would have seen right through any attempt Lilith made to conceal the ugly truth from them. She might be able to deceive her friends, but she could never fool her aunts.

 

Lilith reached into her pocket and withdrew a small note. “They asked me to bring you a message. A letter.”

 

It was all Sabrina could do not to immediately snatch it from her hands, instead waiting for Lilith to hold it out to her. When she took it, her heart was pounding with both excitement and extreme nerves as she unravelled it, recognizing Zelda's handwriting.

 

It was rather short, less a letter and more a note, but she took forever reading it as she poured over every word.

 

_Dear Sabrina,_

_I'm writing this letter in the desperate hope that you will get the chance to read it and hear what I wish I could tell you in person._

_I know I could never hope to understand the ordeal you are going through, though I may try. But know this; you are not a victim. You are a survivor. Just as I told you before the coronation, you will find a way to get through this. And until we are able to meet again, know this too; you are loved. I love you, Hilda loves you, Ambrose loves you, and know that wherever Diana may have ended up, she loves you too. We love you with all our hearts and nothing will ever change that. Never forget it, no matter what lies the Dark Lord may try to tell you._

_You'll always be our precious girl._

_Always,_

_Your Aunt Zelda_

 

 

“Oh, Aunt Zee...” She was overwhelmed by a surge of conflicting emotions, yet the main one she felt was...relief. She had been expecting a outpouring of sympathy from her aunts and wasn't sure if she would have even been able to handle it, but this was manageable. Zelda understood her well and knew that what she needed right now was words of encouragement, not useless pity.

 

Even so, she couldn't help but shed another tear or two especially when she re-read the last several lines.

 

“There, now...” Lilith gave her another pat on the shoulder that was probably supposed to be reassuring, though it seemed like a rather generic gesture by now. “Your aunts are both strong-minded witches, and even your cousin is one of the better males around. They won't let this keep them down. Worry less about them and more about yourself.”

 

Sabrina was able to manage a small smile at Lilith's accurate description of her family...which quickly disappeared at her next words. “Your aunt, Zelda, asked me to give you that letter to read. Now that you have, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take it.”

 

Sabrina pulled away from her, clutching the letter the letter to her chest so Lilith couldn't take it. She knew it was silly, but she didn't want to get rid of it. This letter was now like the most valuable thing in the world to her, her most treasured possession. It was the proof that, as alone as she felt now, she _did_ still have a family who genuinely loved and cared about her. What was more, it was a reminder of just who and what she was enduring all this for.

 

“I want to keep it,” she protested, refusing to relinquish the precious piece of paper. Lilith shook her head regretfully.

 

“I understand your sentimentality, but we can't risk the Dark Lord finding it. He doesn't know that I'm in contact with your family. Do you really want to risk losing your one connection to them?”

 

This prospect was enough to burst Sabrina's sentimental bubble. She didn't even want to think about how much trouble Lilith and her aunts would be if he found out about them colluding behind his back. She needed to stop thinking with her heart and start thinking with her head.

 

Defeated but not wanting to admit it, she wordlessly handed it over to Lilith and she cast it into the fireplace, the flames devouring the small note. In mere seconds, all evidence of Zelda's encouraging words had been erased. Sabrina vowed to consign them to her memory for all time.

She continued to stare into the fire long after the paper had been reduced to ashes, Lilith's voice a dim noise in the background that she paid little attention to. She hardly registered anything else until Lilith suddenly went quiet.

 

Lamia had returned from the kitchens, carrying a tea tray. Not seeming to notice that her appearance had caused Lilith to pause in what she was saying, she went about setting the tea down on a nearby table.

 

“Your tea, Queen Sabrina!” she said, her cheeriness a distinct contrast from the sombre mood in the room. “And that's not all...”

She disappeared again, only to appear a couple of seconds later carrying a huge chocolate cake which she plonked down next to the tea. Sabrina looked at it questioningly, while Lamia looked extremely pleased with herself.

 

“...Your dessert. Since you never got the chance to have it, and you ate hardly anything for dinner. Apparently humans like to eat when they're feeling miserable, so maybe this will help you feel better.”

 

Sabrina had never been one for emotional overeating. It was going to take a lot more than cake to make her feel any better. But since Lamia had gone to the trouble of bringing it to her...

 

_Am I really worrying about hurting a demon's feelings?_

 

In spite of Lamia's creepiness, there was also a bizarre innocence to her and Sabrina didn't have the heart to correct her. It would have been a bit like kicking a puppy...an unpredictable, potentially rapid puppy with extremely sharp teeth.

 

Feigning gratitude, she proceeded to pick at the cake with her fork, not actually eating any of it, while raising the topic of her school visit with Lilith.

 

“Lilith, the Dark Lord said that he would let me visit Baxter High tomorrow...” She wasn't sure if he would have told her yet, or even where he disappeared off too after leaving her. Evidently someone along the line had decided to inform her, as Lilith nodded in recognition.

 

“Yes, I will be taking you there tomorrow to meet your mortal friends. But you will no longer be attending your mortal school from now on.”

Sabrina was disappointed to hear this, though she had suspected it would be the case. The Dark Lord _had_ said it would be her last visit to Baxter High. As the Queen of Hell, a mortal education was now beneath her. Perhaps she would be allowed to continue her witch studies, if she ever got her powers back.

 

She certainly wasn't going to be asking _him_ about that possibility though- not when he would undoubtedly expect something in return.

 

“Would Baxter High even be open? Considering the circumstances?” she asked. She would have thought that the apocalypse meant school was out for the unforeseeable future.

 

“I'm the Principal, dear girl. I will make arrangements for you. I don't imagine many students will want to attend, but I'm sure your friends will make an appearance after I tell them you're going to be there.”

 

Sabrina was about to point out that even a Principal likely didn't have that much authority...until she remembered that there really _was_ no authority any more, and therefore no one to stop Lilith from doing whatever she wanted at Baxter High.

 

“You're actually going to continue being Principal? Are you at least going to tell the students who you actually are? It isn't as though you need to keep up the pretence now.”

 

Lilith smirked slightly at this.

“I don't imagine the students would be happy to learn that their Principal is a demoness from Hell.”

 

Sabrina begged to differ. As a rebellious teen herself, she thought most her age would be thrilled to discover one of their teachers was actually a demon.

 

Seeing the mischievous glint in her eyes, Lilith then added, “Or at least their parents wouldn't. So no, I will be keeping up the masquerade. But I will continue to act as their principal....for now. I promised you I would look out for your friends, and the job does have its perks.”

 

She wondered for a moment what perks Lilith could be referring to, then it dawned on her that working at Baxter High was now the only time Lilith would be able to stay away from the Dark Lord. It was unfortunate that she herself wasn't going to be getting the same opportunity.

 

Lamia, who had none-to-subtly been listening on their conversation (eavesdropping apparently being a hobby of hers) chose this moment to weigh in.

 

“Ooh, you're going to be visiting a school for _mortals_? A whole building filled with delicious prey? Can I come?”

 

“None of them are on the menu,” Sabrina said to her, sternly.

 

“Oh, I know that. Greendale and its residents are off-limits, the Dark Lord said. But still, mortals are such _fascinating_ creatures. How incredibly interesting it would be to see them in their natural environment and learn more about their quaint ways!” Lamia giggled.

 

She spoke as though she were referring to a species of insect rather than actual people...yet the dehumanizing words were spoken with a child-like wonder which appeared to be one hundred percent genuine. It was jarring to hear.

 

And Sabrina trusted this demonic redhead about as far as Theo could throw a basketball. Any creature known for eating children was sure to be bad news, then there was the matter of her snooping at the coronation. She didn't know whether Lamia had decided to blab to the Dark Lord about her aunts' questionable allegiance. Either way, she was going to need to tread carefully around this strange demoness until she understood what her true intentions were.

 

But until she figured out where Lamia's loyalties lay, it would be better to try and get in her good graces. Who knew, she could even wind up as a potential ally.

 

“Is it OK if she comes with us?” she asked Lilith. She didn't actually _want_ to bring Lamia, but if she was going to ingratiate herself with her then this was a good time to start.

 

“You are the Queen of Hell, Sabrina. You give the orders.” There was no denying the distinct disgruntlement in Lilith's tone, and Sabrina felt a pang. As far as she was concerned, Lilith still deserved the crown of Hell more than she did. For better or for worse.

On the other hand, Lamia was overjoyed, taking Sabrina's question as agreement to her coming with them and disappearing off again to make arrangements for the trip.

 

Hoping she hadn't made a terrible mistake by agreeing to let another cannibalistic demoness walk through the doors of Baxter High, Sabrina began to question Lilith as to how things were back home. She was surprised to hear Ambrose and Prudence had apparently become an item once more.

 

“I wouldn't have forgiven her so quickly if I were him,” she said, remembering how the Weird Sisters had tormented him while they kept him locked in the witches cells. While it was ultimately Ambrose who had suffered at their hands, not her, and therefore it was his choice as to whether to forgive and forget or not...she couldn't help but question her cousin's easygoing nature at times like this.

 

“You were the one who was so heavenbent on securing a pardon for her,” Lilith reminded her.

 

“For what her father did. Besides, I don't hate her enough to let the Dark Lord kill her and sentence her to eternal damnation. That doesn't mean I would just go running back into her arms like Ambrose has.”

 

In truth, she wasn't sure how she really felt about Prudence. There had been times where she had thought of her as a friend- and moments where Prudence really did seem to have her back, particularly when it came to fighting the Academy's outdated, misogynistic rules. As strong-headed witches who loathed being told what to do by men, they seemed like natural allies.

 

And now they also knew they shared the misfortune of having terrible fathers, so she could relate to her in that sense too.

 

But unlike Prudence, she had never once been willing to comply with her father's evil schemes. She had decided to stand up to him instead of hurting others to gain his approval. _For all the good it had done in the end._

 

“She wanted to come here to check up on you,” said Lilith, interrupting Sabrina's train of thoughts.

 

“She what?”

 

“Your hearing hasn't failed you. Dear little Prudence wanted to pay you a visit, to see how you are and offer you moral support. You will be glad to hear I advised her against such rash actions.”

 

Sabrina still wasn't entirely convinced she had heard Lilith properly. It didn't sound like anything Prudence would even think about doing.

 

“She must have wanted to do that for Ambrose. Or Aunt Zelda.” She owed it to both of _them_ , at least. Nonetheless, Sabrina was indeed glad that Lilith had talked her out of it.

 

“Oh, I think she cares about _you_ more than she would have you bel-” Lilith began then cut herself short, for seemingly no reason. Everything about her went tense, and a flicker of apprehension appeared in her ice-blue eyes.

 

Their conversation forgotten, she rose from the table.

 

“It appears I have business to attend to elsewhere.” She called out into thin air. “Lamia, whatever you're up to now can be finished later. Your Queen needs to be readied for bed.” Sabrina couldn't hear Lamia's reply, from whatever distant room or realm she was in, but Lilith looked irritated as she turned back to her. She wasn't the only one.

 

“...I can get ready by myself, you know,” she said, not looking forward to being subjected to yet another lengthy beauty regime.

 

Lilith hand-waved her objection.

“I'm sure you can. But there are protocols to be followed. Argue about it with Lamia if you wish, when she decides to come back and do her job.  She will bring you to Baxter High at nine-thirty tomorrow. I will gather your friends so you can meet them, but you should probably avoid speaking to any of the other students. They don't know of your new position yet, and will likely end up paying in blood for any disrespect they might inadvertently show towards you.”

 

“Only if the Dark Lord finds out.”

 

“You agreed to let Lamia come with us. No secret is safe with her,” said Lilith. She cast a glance at the clock, before turning to Sabrina with the urgent air of someone desperate to end the current conversation.

“Nine-thirty tomorrow, we leave for Baxter High. Don't be late. Not that you have ever had any problems with punctuality before.”

 

What was supposed to be a light jibe fell short due to the pained way that she delivered it. All the color had drained from her complexion, and her voice was as weak as though she were in physical pain. Beginning to feel quite concerned, Sabrina was about to ask her what the matter was...but never got the chance. With no further parting words, Lilith vanished.

 

Sabrina stared at the spot where she had disappeared for a while, taken aback by her abrupt departure. She had a feeling that Lilith was hiding something.

 

_Has she discussed more with my aunties than she's telling me?_

 

_Does she still have any loyalty left to the Dark Lord?_

 

_Is she really keeping her job at Baxter High to watch over Harvey, Roz and Theo...or to spy on them?_

 

So many questions and she was too weary to think of possible answers now.

It was with defeat that she finally made a start on the cake Lamia brought her, as she stroked Salem in contemplation and gazed idly out the window at the blood red moon in the starless black sky.

 

“Tomorrow is going to be a long day...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salem and Sabrina are getting more interaction in this fanfic than in the whole show 😆
> 
> You know I said last chapter was my least favorite? Well, I take it all back. Sometimes my brain just doesn't seem to co-operate with what what I want to write and this was one of those times. While I'm not particularly happy with how it turned out (that second scene has to be the most boring thing I've ever written), I'm relieved to have finally gotten it done.  
> Also Madame Spellman shippers, please don't kill me yet. Zelda and Lilith's relationship is definitely off to an antagonistic start but they will be warming up to each other eventually. It's going to be a slow burner though.  
> Another thing I felt the need to touch on was Prudence's feelings on the whole matter. In the show, we saw her take part in the plot against the Dark Lord but we never found out what caused her to do a 180 and go from being totally devoted to him, to helping defeat him. While it's not too difficult to guess the possible reasons for it (e.g. gratitude to the Spellmans, fear over being blamed for Blackwood's actions), I really wish we had gotten a scene showing her change of heart. Maybe they'll discuss it in Part 3?
> 
> Anyway, I'm so so so sorry again that this chapter was so ridiculously late. I'm a jerk and I'll try not to leave it so long again.  
> Happy Halloween/Samhain! 🎃


	6. Fake Smiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's me again! XD Thank you so much to everyone who had reviewed and kudosed! I had no idea that so many people were going to read this.  
> Phew, this was a long chapter to write. 17845 words! I guess it would have made more sense to split it but I had a plan and I wanted to stick to it.  
> You have been warned, this chapter is heavy & I'm not sure what people are going to think of it. Once again, trigger warning over descriptions of physical, emotional & sexual abuse, depression, as well as some transphobic language. Also a spoiler warning for the prequel novel Daughter of Chaos, since a couple of characters from it will be appearing (just in case anyone was planning on reading it but hasn't done so yet).

 

Nobody needed to wake Sabrina the next morning. It seemed that no sooner had she laid her head down to rest and closed her eyes then she was opening them again. It was still dark outside, the ominous red glow from the blood moon and the flickering fireplace her only sources of light, through which she could just about make out the time on her bedside clock.

 

Four-thirty.

 

Considerably earlier than an evening person like herself would usually wake up, but she was too wired to go back to sleep again. A stark contrast to the drowsy state she had been in yesterday, though she supposed missing two nights rest in a row and then spending an entire day sleeping was enough to seriously mess up her sleep cycle.

 

But it also meant she now had three whole hours before Lamia came along to wake her up. Blissful peace and quiet, not being harassed and hassled by demons. How she was going to spend those three hours, she had no idea, but she resolved to enjoy every second of them.

 

It was with this stray surge of optimism that she got out of bed. Salem leapt off after her and followed as she padded over to the window, the marble floor warm beneath her bare feet. Resting her hands on the windowsill, she looked out, taking in the outside world properly for the first time since the night of the coronation.

 

The view wasn't what she had imagined. She had expected something a lot more...infernal. The Apocalypse itself had just occurred, all the demon hordes were freed, a literal Hell on Earth established. She had been expecting more flames, more smoke, the stench of sulphur and brimstone, and the sound of screaming from the damned, among other horrors. But the night was as silent and still as ever.

 

In fact, other than the blood moon's unnatural appearance, nothing seemed any different than usual. The forest hadn't been set on fire, like Aunt Hilda had foreseen. Sweetwater River hadn't turned into a crimson river of blood. And from what she could see of it from here, Greendale looked the same as always; still the dull, quaint, quiet little town it always had been with its picturesque old-fashioned aesthetic. The Dark Lord had kept that much of his promise, at least. It had not been ravaged by the demon army, hadn't been burned or raided or otherwise brutalized like everywhere else probably had been.

 

She could only imagine how the rest of the world had fared. Perhaps she would never know. Perhaps she was going to be forever living in this bubble, her delicate eyes shielded from the chaos she had helped create. A Queen of Hell who had no idea what Hell even was.

 

“I wonder what it's like out there?” she said to Salem, not expecting much of an answer. The cat narrowed his eyes as a hissed thought popped into her head that certainly wasn't her own.

 

_I welcome the hotter climate, but all the birds seem to have gone into hiding. Shame._

 

Sabrina nearly face-palmed at his priorities. She knew it wasn't really his fault; familiars were intelligent beings but tended to take on the traits of whatever animal they were posing as, so it was unsurprising that the main things Salem would have on his mind were food and the weather. But...she wished she were able to have a more in-depth conversation with him about what was going on in her life. Heaven, she wished she could have a conversation with anyone who wasn't an evil cannibalistic demon.

 

The purring feline continued to follow her as she took to exploring her new quarters, something she hadn't found the opportunity to do so far. Her “room” was less a room and more of a large apartment. There was the bedroom, which she was already too well-aquainted with, and the bathroom, but there were also a couple of other doors she had yet to investigate. One of them led to what appeared to be her own private study, complete with a desk, cosy armchair and walls lined with bookshelves.

Upon closer inspection she found that they were mainly filled with books on Satanic lore and spellwork. She wasn't surprised, though she had to wonder what the point was in owning such volumes when she no longer had any magical powers. Unless the Dark Lord was indeed planning on returning them to her? Was it even possible for him to do so?

 

With this faint hope that she hardly dared to entertain, in case it turned out to be in vain, she left the study and went to the other door. This one was even less of a surprise. It led into a wardrobe- her “wardrobe” being a room filled with dresses, shoes and other accessories arrayed in a rainbow of different hues; not all dark, moody tones like one would expect to find in the Queen of Hell's closet. She spied the red gown Lamia had selected for her the night before among them, but she doubted she would be wearing it again.

With her new status, it was highly unlikely she would ever be wearing the same thing twice.

 

She shut the door again, not interested in looking any further. It wasn't that she disliked fashion. She enjoyed getting dressed up when it suited her, for special occasions like the Sweethearts dance or whenever else she felt like it. But as Queen of Hell, she suspected it was going to be a daily requirement to keep up appearances and worse still, to please _him_ , like some glorified doll. And this room, with its extravagance, was nothing more than a glorified dollhouse.

 

The thought of it was enough to make her nauseous.

 

She made her way back to the bed and collapsed onto it, that feeling of restless frustration threatening to consume her once more. The false positivity that pulled her from it was already snuffed out, as quickly as it had been lit. She had all of eternity ahead of her but didn't feel like she could face so much as another day in her gilded cage. The walls of this room, this dollhouse, were suffocating her.

Yet the thought of leaving them and having to put on the pretence to the outside world that she was somehow coping, having to lie to everyone around her including her own friends, was no less terrifying.

 

...Truly, she couldn't think of anything that could make her happy.

 

_No. Get a hold of yourself. There's no use in sitting around feeling sorry for yourself._

 

Aunt Zee would probably say something like that if she were there. But she wasn't there, and if Zelda had managed to get through being Father Blackwood's puppet then surely Sabrina could survive being the Dark Lord's doll.

 

She got up again with great reluctance and trudged over to the bathroom, determined that she would get herself ready for the day before Lamia got the chance to drag her through one of her tedious beauty rituals. It was a rather pathetic and meaningless form of rebellion, but she needed to do _something..._ andif today was to be her last excursion into the mortal world then she wanted to go as Sabrina Spellman. Not Sabrina Morningstar.

 

She came to a stop at the bathroom door, surprised to see that she wasn't alone. Stood before the sink and its gilded mirror was Lilith, her back to her as she dabbed at her face. Guessing she must be applying more of the makeup she always seemed to be caked in, Sabrina called out to her.

 

“Lilith? How come you're in-” The question died on her lips when she fully took in Lilith's reflection.

 

She was a mess. There was no other way to describe it. Her hair was dishevelled and her painstakingly applied make-up ruined...but nothing could have concealed her blackened eye, the bleeding cut on her cheek, the split lip, and the trail of bruises and scratches that led from her neck down her chest, or at least as much of it as was exposed by her green robe's plunging neckline.

 

Sabrina held a hand to her mouth, stifling what would have been an audible gasp, but the horror still showed on her face.

And Lilith was no less horrified. She whipped around with the rabbit-caught-in-headlights look of someone who had been discovered committing a crime. Which was just ridiculous, Sabrina thought.

 

“Lilith...what happened to you?” It was a stupid question. She knew exactly what had happened to Lilith, or rather what had been done to her...and who had done it. Her fists clenched, her initial shock giving way to a steadily rising rage. That monster. She had thought he could sink no lower, but she had once again underestimated him.

 

Biting her already-bloody lip, Lilith turned back to the mirror. “It is nothing.”

 

“That isn't nothing!” Sabrina shouted. Her fury was towards the Dark Lord, but a small, irrational part of her wanted to grab the demoness and shake her for telling such a blatant lie, and trying to pretend she was fine when she so obviously wasn't. This part of her was frightening. Was it normal to feel that way towards someone who had been victimized?

She knew she should be empathizing with Lilith instead of yelling at her, useless as her empathy may be to the Mother of Demons.

And maybe that was the real reason she felt this way. She knew she was powerless to defend Lilith against Lucifer, just as she was to defend herself.

 

Still fixated on the mirror, a small smile surfaced on Lilith's face. It was an extremely bitter one. “It is nothing. Believe me, I've suffered worse. Far, far worse. This is nothing I'm unable to heal myself. See?” As though to demonstrate, she waved her hand over the marked skin, each blemish fading away as she did so, and Sabrina realized that was what she had been in the process of doing when she walked in on her. But she was far from placated.

 

“That's besides the point! He never should have done that to you in the first place! It...it was him, wasn't it? That was where you went last night.” And even then, Lilith had known what was coming. That fear on her face had said it all. Just how often did she endure this treatment?

 

Lilith still wore that sorry excuse of a smile, but her eyes were sad. “The Dark Lord likes to call upon me from time to time. Not as often as he used to. But when he does, I am obliged to answer. And...his affections are not always gentle. He can be a cruel lover when he is angry or...bored...” she trailed off there, looking away from her battered reflection and down at the sink.

 

“Lilith...” Sabrina didn't know what to say. What could she say? No words existed that could make the situation any better for either of them. No words would save them from this literal hell.

 

Eventually she just murmured “I'm sorry.” And she was indeed sorry; sorry to be related to the man who did this. She wished it weren't so. She didn't want to be like him, have to associate herself with him or be involved in his evil deeds. If Edward Spellman had been her real father, then she would have been free to live a better life instead of having this heavy crown foisted on her. She had never asked for any of this.

 

Then again, Lilith had never asked for the lot she had been dealt either.

 

The demoness didn't look up or show any sign of having heard her mumbled apology, and her next words seemed to be spoken more to herself than anyone else.

 

“I...must admit, I had hoped he would have less cause for grief now. He has the world, his true form, his true queen, his victory...and I've done everything he's asked of me, given him everything he wanted. But it wasn't enough.” A tear fell from her blackened eye. She quickly dried it, but then another one fell. And another. “Nothing is ever enough for him.”

 

Lilith wept silently, the exact opposite of Sabrina's own bawling the night before, and it was heartbreaking to witness. As she watched helplessly from the doorway, she felt an unpleasant squeezing sensation in her chest. She knew exactly what it was- pity, and for once it wasn't directed inwards.

She couldn't lose sight of the fact that for all of her own misery, Lilith still had it much worse.

Thinking she had to make some effort, but in the full knowledge that there wasn't anything she could do to truly help, she made her way gingerly to Lilith's side and reached out a consoling hand- which Lilith moved away from.

 

“No, child. Don't burden yourself with my predicament. This is, as the False God's followers would say, my cross to bear. You shouldn't have seen me like this.” She dried her eyes again, and waved her hand across her face causing the last of the damage to disappear. “Go back to bed. Lamia will wake you when it's time to go visit your mortal friends. I still have other matters to attend to.”

Sabrina longed to ask what those matters were, but by now she knew better than to ask. Nor did she want to go back to bed, but she didn't have the heart to argue with Lilith at the moment, not when she was already in enough distress.

 

As she tucked herself into her huge four-poster, she knew she wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night even if she weren't already wide awake.

 

All she could see when she shut her eyes was Lilith. Poor, abused, long-suffering Lilith.

 

When would that become her fate? She was the Dark Lord's favorite now, but how long for? How soon would his phoney adoration turn into true hatred? It was almost an inevitability that he would tire of her one day, in the long eternity they had to spend together, and up until now she had believed three possibilities could arise from that; that he would destroy her, that he would lock her away in some crumbling castle and forget about her altogether, or thirdly (and sadly least likely) that he would finally let her free.

But now she was seeing a fourth, far more terrifying and far more realistic outcome; that he would never fully tire of her, and would just continue coming up with new and increasingly awful ways to torment her for his own entertainment. To relieve his “boredom”, like a spoiled child with toys he took for granted. She was just a doll wearing a crown, after all. One of his many possessions that he could do with as he wished.

 

“ _I believe he sees you as part of himself, and if there's one thing in this world he loves then it's himself. He will not be cruel to you.”_

 

She hadn't truly understood what Lilith meant that night when she uttered those supposed words of reassurance. Now she could only hope she was right.

 

Since she couldn't sleep, she spent the next three hours hugging Salem to her chest, just like she used to do with her rabbit plushie. Nothing he said could relieve her fears but his purring and affectionate headbutting did a little to soothe her anxiety. There was always something therapeutic about stroking a purring feline.

By the time she felt relaxed enough to possibly fall back into slumber, Lamia had arrived to wake her.

 

“Wakey wakey, Queen Sabrina! Rise and shine! You have a big day ahead of you!” she practically sang in Sabrina's ear with all the melody of a screaming mountain lion.

 

She was starting to wonder how Lamia had even managed to land this job. The Dark Lord had said he wanted her to have a more youthful companion to serve her. She hadn't realized he meant one who behaved like a five-year old.

 

“I'm already awake,” she said crossly, her annoyance increasing when she saw Salem rolling over at the sight of Lamia; a sign of great trust among cats. She once believed her familiar to be an excellent judge of character, but she was now thinking otherwise. Lamia beamed at the cat goblin and gave him a tickle under the chin, while shooting Sabrina a look of what was probably supposed to be wide-eyed innocence made impossible by her lack of actual eyes.

 

“Forgive me, Dark Lady. I was only trying to wake you at the time we agreed on. I thought you would still be asleep.” She sounded so innocent too. Sabrina groaned inwardly, holding a hand to her forehead. An innocent demoness...was an oxymoron. Demons were evil, and child-eating Lamia was certainly no exception.

 

“That's OK, but please could you just...maybe give me a little shake or something in the future. Not burst my eardrum like that,” she said, trying to neutralise her tone. As annoying as Lamia could be, she needed to be nice to her if she hoped to win her as an ally.

 

Lamia shook her head sorrowfully at Sabrina's suggestion. “But I cannot do that, Dark Lady! I'm not allowed to lay a hand on you unless it's to attend to your needs. None of us are. The Dark Lord has forbidden it.”

 

 _Oh for the love of..._ He really did just view her as some prized possession, an exhibit to put on display. But if she were to confront him about it then he would probably try to claim it was for her own protection.

 

“Technically that _would_ be serving my needs,” she said, hiding her anger beneath matter-of-factness.

 

“Hmm...” Lamia blinked, torn between whether she listen to her mistress's argument or follow the Dark Lord's orders to the letter. It was the first display of nerves that Sabrina had seen from the child-like demoness, and it caused her to experience that odd stab of guilt again. She didn't know why she was wasting her emotions on feelings of compassion towards a creature like Lamia, but if that was what would allow her to hold onto her humanity...it could only be a good thing.

 

Deciding not to risk getting her handmaiden into trouble, she assured her,“Don't worry about it. I'll just use an alarm clock next time.”

 

Not that she even had any devices with which to set an alarm. It seemed absurd to be surrounded by all this evidence of wealth yet lack the most basic of modern technology. She never ceased to be amazed at how out-of-touch witchkind was with electronics. Even in the Spellman household, the phones were only really used for liaising with customers and Ambrose was the proud owner of the family's sole laptop.

 

Placated by her lady's decision, Lamia quickly regained her composure and presented Sabrina her breakfast- blueberry pancakes with maple syrup. Sabrina didn't even want to know how she had figured out that was her favorite, but it was fortunate that she had finally gotten her appetite back, her lack of eating over the last couple of days having caught up with her. She demolished them in about two minutes with room for seconds, after which Lamia whisked her off to the bathroom for the dreaded beauty regime.

It was almost another hour before she had been successfully bathed, perfumed and pampered to a level that Lamia deemed satisfactory.

 

“And now we need to decide what you're going to wear!” She half-dragged Sabrina back to that accursed wardrobe (funny how that was apparently acceptable), magically flinging the doors open. “We have a lot to choose from. Hathor picked everything out for you. She knows this stuff best.” She looked at Sabrina expectantly. “Well, what do you think?”

 

“Umm...” She appreciated that Lamia was at least taking the time to ask what she thought, though in this case she didn't think much. Not all the dresses were luxuriously unfunctional evening gowns like one might have expected, most of them varying in style and length, but the fact remained that they _were_ all dresses. She was no tomboy, but she liked to have a bit more of an option when it came to clothing.

 

She wrinkled her nose. “...I can't exactly wear dresses all the time. Is there anything a bit more...practical? Like jeans? Sweaters?”

 

“Practical?” Lamia seemed genuinely baffled now. “Why would you need anything practical? You are the Queen of Hell, ruler of the entire world. You won't be doing anything practical.” She gave one of her ear-ringingly high pitched giggles. “That's the beauty of ruling! Why do anything yourself when you can just order someone else to do it for you?”

 

She sighed, a certain expression appearing on her cherubic face. It was hard to decipher someone's true emotions when they had black holes for eyes, but it may have been wistfulness. “I should know. In Hell, I'm practically royalty; a grand duchess with my own province. I have a palace, and servants and slaves to attend to my every whim.”

 

Now Sabrina was the one who was baffled. “Why would you leave all that to become a handmaiden to me?” It sounded like a demotion if anything.

 

“Why else? Because, mortal queen, there is no greater dishonor than being handmaiden to the Queen of Hell.” Sabrina frowned at her, sure there must be more to it than that, and Lamia added, “Not to mention that the weather conditions up here are a lot more pleasant. And so much prey! All the humans in Hell are already _dead_ , you see, so we don't get to feast on the living as often as we would like. But now the menu is limitless! There is nothing more scrumptious than the flesh of a child of Light.”

 

Sabrina regretted ever asking.

 

In the end, she picked out the plainest black dress she could find. It looked more like the type of thing Prudence would wear than herself, but it would do. Paired with her favorite black hairband and red satchel (one of the few things she had brought with her from home), she looked passably normal.

 

But she could nevertheless feel the stares of her fellow Baxter High students when she and Lamia approached the school thirty minutes later. They hadn't teleported in the view of anyone, with Sabrina insisting that they be as discreet as possible. She had wanted to walk there instead, but Lamia had received strict instructions to the contrary (“Mother said to go straight there and straight back. No detours!”)

Sabrina knew very well whose orders those really were. The Dark Lord had probably suspected- with good reason- that she might use the opportunity to drop in and visit her aunts while she was outside the Academy walls.

 

She was less like a queen and more like a prisoner.

 

It was so surreal to be back in this safe, human environment after the horrors of the last couple of days; like waking up after a long nightmare but knowing she would soon need to go back to sleep and face it all over again. None of the students she passed by knew what she had been through, still blissfully ignorant of who she really was.

Even so, the looks she received as her and Lamia walked through Baxter High's half-deserted halls were ones of awe. She might appear mostly the same, but it seemed they could all sense something different about her. Something in her aura, or even just in the way she carried herself. It was as though they could innately tell she was a different person, one of great importance as opposed to the insignificant student who had once gone here.

 

And Lamia was getting her fair share of attention too, having applied a glamour to hide her scales and replaced her black pit-like eyes with ordinary brown ones. The change couldn't have made her look more different. She had gone from creepy to absolutely adorable. Everyone who had bothered to show up to school must have been wondering who this cute new student was.

 

They could continue to wonder, for all Sabrina cared. Harvey, Roz and Theo were who she was here for...even though she dreaded seeing them almost as much as she looked forward to it. She didn't even have time for any of the other Baxter High rabble.

Unfortunately Lamia, enjoying all the attention she was getting, kept stopping to chat with everyone.

 

“I told you, none of them are on the menu!” Sabrina hissed after dragging her away from Ed Dursley, the fifth student she had decided to strike up a conversation with. The jock had been unable to tear his gaze away from the pretty redhead, clueless to what he was letting himself in for. As much as Sabrina disliked him for him and his friends' bullying of Theo, she didn't think he quite deserved to end up as a demoness's lunch.

 

Lamia made a face. “I wouldn't have eaten him anyway. His soul is rotten to the core. He would taste disgusting!”

 

“He definitely would,” agreed Sabrina, resisting the urge to smile at Lamia's accurate assessment. It seemed that demons could be right about some things.

 

By the time they drew up outside Principal Wardwell's office however, her nerves were definitely getting the better of her. She told herself that she was being irrational. She was the Queen of Hell itself who had faced off with demons, undead witches and many other monstrosities. So why did the prospect of meeting up with the three friends she had been with and loved since childhood daunt her so?

 

...It was because she knew what she had to do now. She had to cut ties with those childhood friends, the ones who meant so much to her that she bought their safety with her soul. This was goodbye, forever. It was what was best for all of them and it was better to do it now rather than later, before they got poisoned too much by their association with her and her infernal world. And what was more, she was going to have to lie to them once more.

 

She knocked a couple of times on the door before opening it, to be greeted by the sight of Lilith in full Ms. Wardwell guise, sitting at her desk and thoroughly unimpressed at the sight of her.

 

“You're late.” She might not be a real teacher, but she had perfected the stern teacher tone along with the impassive raising of the eyebrows. Perhaps being the mother of several thousand demons had given her some practice in dealing with unruly youths.

 

Sabrina looked pointedly at Lamia, who very pointedly looked away, before turning back to Lilith whom she hoped may understand anyway. “Sorry.”

 

“Oh, there's no need to apologize. Your friends were more bothered by your tardiness than I was,” Lilith said coolly, casting a glance to her left. Sabrina followed it, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw who she was looking at. Harvey, Roz and Theo had all been sitting by Ms. Wardwell's desk, but had jumped to their feet upon Sabrina entering the room.

 

“Brina!”

 

“Roz...Har-” Sabrina started, then stopping when she heard how choked up she sounded.

 

Lilith stood up from her desk chair. “Well, I will leave you to it. Come along, Lamia.” She caught the small redhead by the arm and yanked her from the room while she complained, the door slamming shut behind them. Sabrina couldn't help but breathe an inner sigh of relief that she would be able to speak with her friends in private, free from eavesdropping by nosy demonesses.

 

A flurry of emotions hit her when she saw their faces, excited and lit with joy at seeing her apparently unscathed after the precarious situation in which they had last said goodbye to each other. She was similarly happy to see that they were OK, but at the same time she was hit with the sinking realization that this may be the last time she ever saw them.

And there was also that horrible, horrible sense of shame. What right did she have to even stand in their presence, to walk among ordinary innocent people when she had been tainted by evil? As irrational as she knew it was, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was no longer worthy of their friendship.

 

All these emotions were nearly causing her to break down then and there, but that was out of the question. She couldn't betray her emotions; she had to make them believe she was OK or else they would suspect the humiliating truth. Fixing a smile onto her face, she hugged each of them in turn.

 

“Guys, I really missed you...” She couldn't believe it had only been two nights and one full day since she last saw them, it seemed like at least a week.

 

“We missed you too, Brina. We were so worried about you!” Theo exclaimed as Sabrina finished hugging him, shaking from head to foot with what must have been either excitement or nerves. She felt a rush of affection for him in that moment, and it made what she was about to do all the more challenging.

 

“I phoned your aunts, but they said they hadn't seen you since the coronation,” said Harvey. Looking at him closer, Sabrina now saw how tired and withdrawn he looked; pale, haggard, with deep circles under his eyes and deep grooves lining his forehead. The last time she'd seen him looking so under the weather was after he had been forced to shoot his own brother, thanks to her.

 

She seemed to bring nothing but ruin to those she loved.

 

“Is that...all they told you?” She was tentative as she took the seat he had drawn up for her. She doubted Aunt Zelda would have told them the full story, but Aunt Hilda...

 

“Pretty much, they wouldn't tell us anything else. I don't think they wanted to speak to us. At least, Zelda didn't.” That figured, thought Sabrina. Zelda had never approved of Harvey, or any of her mortal friends at that, though she had hoped that recent events might have increased her opinion of them. Apparently not...but in this case she was glad. “What happened, Brina?”

 

“He hasn't...harmed you, has he?” Theo put forward, with an upset frown, and it was all Sabrina could do not to scream in frustration that the question was being raised already.

 

“No! No, of course not. I'm fine. It's just...things have been a bit crazy. Moving into the Academy and all that. There's been a lot to take in.” The ability to lie with ease was one of the many traits she definitely hadn't inherited from her father, and neither Roz or Harvey looked the slightest bit convinced by her babbling.

 

 _Especially_ not Roz. Her best friend had yet to say anything to her, and even her hug seemed rather reluctant. Now she stared at her with great pity in her deep brown eyes, that and something else Sabrina couldn't quite read but whatever it was, it made her deeply uneasy. Roz knew her far too well, and she suspected that she could now see straight through her lies.

 

Theo alone seemed to have been fooled, piping up before Roz or Harvey got the chance to poke holes in Sabrina's story.

 

“I'll bet there has. So what's it like there?”

 

“I...really, I'd rather not talk about it.” It was about the most truthful thing she had been able to say to them so far, Sabrina reflected with dismay. Determined to change the topic, she asked, “Enough about me. What about you? How have things been in town since...since the Apocalypse?” She never thought she would hear a question like that coming out her mouth.

 

“Nothing has changed that much actually. I mean, everything's closed at the moment but Greendale's always been pretty dead anyway.”

 

“Well...Dad's not happy,” said Harvey, still very pale. “It isn't like we can continue with the family business, now the Gates of Hell have opened up in the mines. It's too dangerous for us to go anywhere near them let alone do any mining.”

 

“The whole place has probably turned into molten lava now. It sure was hot enough in there,” Theo added unhelpfully.

 

Sabrina pondered whether there was a way she could compensate the Kinkle family for losing their livelihood, without having to consult the Dark Lord about it. What good was being the Queen of Hell if a little thing like that wasn't even in her power to grant? She would have to look into it. She owed that much to Harvey at least.

 

“We're alive. Everyone we know is, and Greendale is still the safest place to be.” Roz spoke up. It was the first thing she had said to Sabrina, in a tone that was muted and strangely emotionless. “We know it's because of you, Sabrina. You kept your promise.” She met Sabrina's shocked gaze with her own, and there was still that horrifying pity in it. It made her want to look away rather than face it.

 

“Thank you...” Rosalind whispered.

 

A shiver went down Sabrina's spine at that, for some reason that she couldn't fathom. Hiding her discomfort, she dismissed her friend's words of thanks. “He gave me Greendale as a coronation gift, but the rest of the world is still suffering because of me.”

 

“Not because of you. Because of _him_.” Roz's tone was so venomous, so filled with hatred, that Sabrina did a double take. She knew Roz was a devout Christian, had been raised to abhor everything the Dark Lord stood for, but for her hatred to be so personal...it was almost as though...

 

“A lot of people are coming here, you know,” said Theo, interrupting Sabrina's path of thoughts. “They've heard that Greendale is safer than everywhere else. Riverdale got totally raised to the ground and now all the survivors are trying to get in here.”

 

This caught her attention. “What do you mean, _trying_?”

 

“Those two demon ladies...Aishef and Nanna...?”

 

“Eisheth and Naamah,” Sabrina corrected. She had only met them that one time at the coronation, but she had read their names enough times in the Demonomicon to remember who they were. Both were noted for their beauty and ruthlessness, and being among Satan's many concubines.

 

“OK. Well, they've constructed some kind of magical barrier around the town and now no one can get in. Or out, for that matter,” Theo explained, as casually as though he were discussing Baxter High's new class timetable, and Sabrina recoiled at the news.

 

“What? No!” she practically yelped, causing her friends to startle. “When I told the Dark Lord I wanted Greendale for my own, I meant I wanted the town to be protected, not that I wanted to keep you all prisoner!”

 

“To be fair, it isn't like any of us want to leave when everywhere else is swarming with demons,” reasoned Theo, nonplussed at Sabrina's indignant outburst.

 

“That doesn't matter! But...when and how did you meet those two demonesses anyway?”

 

“It was really messed up.” Harvey looked like he was going to be sick. “We didn't get attacked, but we still heard all the reports coming in. Some of the things they were saying...it was awful. You're lucky you didn't have to see it, Brina. Everyone was panicking. People were screaming in the streets, begging God to save them and forgive them for their sins.”

It was often said that there were no atheists in foxholes.

 

“Then all the reports went quiet, and that was even worse. We heard nothing for several hours, until early morning when we were summoned to a town meeting at Baxter High and those two demons were there. They didn't answer any of our questions. All they told us was that the town was under their protection on the Dark Lord's orders, and we were forbidden from worshipping God any longer. They said he was a False God.”

 

“Some guy tried to shoot them,” said Theo, sounding awestruck at this unnamed stranger's bravery or stupidity. “ _Did_ shoot them. The bullets did nothing, then they beheaded him on the spot. No one tried anything after that.”

 

This info hit her like a punch in the gut. She had wanted to keep Greendale safe, and she had thought she succeeded, but despite everything she had done, despite her best efforts, blood had still been shed here. Blood that was drenching her own soul in an invisible wave of crimson.

 

“Oh, no...” she breathed, blinking away tears that were threatening to fall. She had resolved not to cry in front of her friends, but hearing of her failure was putting that resolve in serious jeopardy.

 

Harvey reached out to touch her hand in reassurance, a platonic gesture that still managed to earn a sharp look from Roz. “It was a bad idea for him to try that to begin with. You did all you could, Brina.”

 

Sabrina pulled her hand away from his, that feeling of guilt stabbing at her again when she saw his hurt expression.

 

“I have, but it still wasn't enough. Nothing is.” These words reminded herself inexplicably of the ones Lilith had spoken that morning. She knew it was now or never, the time to do what she desperately didn't want to.

“Don't you see? Everything I touch gets poisoned. It's dangerous just to be near me. I...tried to spare you all before, after I had to sign the Book of the Beast, but I ended up drifting back to you, and now this has happened. I don't want to put you in danger, I don't want you to suffer because of me and my selfishness, and even though I love you with all my heart that's why I have to-”

 

“Don't you dare,” said Theo, suddenly fierce.

 

Roz threw Harvey and Theo a sideways glance. “I told you.”

 

“Told them what?”

 

Roz looked back to Sabrina, her stare both soft and intense and still very sympathetic. “I knew it- we knew you'd try to do something like this. And we're not accepting it.”

 

“I don't want to do it, but it's what's best for all of us. You'll still be protected, Greendale is still mine-” Sabrina began, desperate to make them see that this was indeed for the better...for their own protection.

 

“You mean we'll lose our friend, and you'll lose three of yours? How is that what's best?” Harvey demanded, and reminding Sabrina once again of a past conversation, from what seemed like aeons ago. That afternoon in the week leading up to her Dark Baptism, when she had tried to tell Harvey she would be transferring schools. He hadn't accepted it then either.

Now the stakes were so much higher.

 

“You might see me as your best friend now!” she cried in frustration over their inability to see the bigger picture. “Just like you all said you'd always be there for me when I revealed myself to be a witch. But once you see what's really happening to this world, what _I've_ done to it, you won't see me that way any more. All you will see is the Queen of Hell. The Devil's spawn. The Antichrist. The Herald of Hell. And- maybe that's all I will be.”

 

She never wanted them to see her like that. She never wanted _anyone_ to see her like that, but least of all them. She just wanted them to remember her as Sabrina Spellman, not Sabrina Morningstar.

 

“We don't care what you are!” Harvey yelled, sounding almost as tormented as Sabrina felt. He had always been good at that.

 

“You will.”

 

“We won't. I don't care that Satan is your father, or that you're a witch, or a nephilim or whatever you may be. Above all you're our friend, Brina, and you're a good person. You've made mistakes but everyone does. I doubted you once before, and that was _my_ mistake. I'll never make that mistake again,” said Roz, and Sabrina's heart lifted at her words. If even Rosalind- the devout preacher's daughter whose entire family line had been cursed by witches, could accept her for who she was...then maybe she wasn't beyond hope.

 

“We'll always be here for you, Brina. No matter what,” said Theo, eager and earnest. It seemed impossible to say no to him.

 

She was torn, between her own wants and what she believed to be their needs. She was sure that what her friends _needed_ was for her to stay as far away from them as possible, contrary to what they or herself wanted.

 

She wanted to be able to keep her friends at her side, to retain this small portion of her former life for herself, like the one special keepsake that she didn't need to keep locked away in a box. She wanted to be able to keep the reminder of what she had bought with her soul and submission close at hand, so she would remember that the price had been worth paying.

 

As she looked at their faces shining with sincerity and the determination not to let her go, she felt herself weaken.

 

“You might end up regretting it.” They needed to at least understand the warning she was giving them, even if they were choosing not to heed it.

 

“We could never regret being with you.” Harvey made it plain that their decision was final. They had chosen her, over safety and stability; her and all the troubles that she brought with her. They knew what she was now; the shadow girl who had been born for the purpose of evil, who was now the very symbol of the oppression of their kind...and they still loved her regardless.

 

“Guys...” There was a new feeling rising in her chest. Relief, dampened somewhat by the knowledge that she still hadn't told them the full truth. Even now, she was hiding things from them. Even as she pulled her friends into a group hug in a scene that could have been from old times, it seemed like a hollow victory.

Yet even a hollow victory was better than none.

 

“Are you going to be here for the whole day?” Theo asked once they had finally broken the group hug, and had the chance to calm down somewhat. They had all been through a bit of an emotional roller-coaster which they were still reeling from.

 

“I actually don't know. I don't see why not,” said Sabrina, raking her brains to remember if Lamia had said anything to the contrary. She didn't think she had. “We should probably go see if they're still outside.” She wasn't much looking forward to introducing Lamia to her friends but if they were going to be part of her new life, she was going to have to at some point.

 

They stepped outside the office to find that while Lilith was nowhere in sight, Lamia was still milling about by the door. Sabrina had the nasty suspicion she had been listening at the keyhole.

 

“Guys, I want you to meet my...um, assistant. Lamia.” She was _not_ going to refer to Lamia as her handmaiden.

 

“You have an assistant? What does she do for you?” Roz was perplexed, and it was easy to see why. Lamia barely looked like she was the legal working age.

 

On the other hand, Theo immediately knew what Sabrina meant. “You mean a servant, right?”

 

Lamia turned to him, her eyes widening as she took him in properly...and a sneaky little smirk spread across her face, much like that which Salem would wear when he had just spied a tasty mouse to play with. _Uh-oh_ , thought Sabrina.

 

“Why, yes! I am our Dark Lady's most dedicated handmaiden.” Her glamoured eyes swept over Theo's features, hunger in them. “It is such a dishonor to meet the pets she so adores. But...I do believe we've already met?”

 

“Your name _does_ ring a bell.”

 

Sabrina was about to tell him about the character from Greek mythology, guessing that was where he had heard it before...that was, until Lamia's smirk widened further.

 

“We didn't see each other, but I could recognize that delicious scent of yours from anywhere. You were in the mines on the night the Gates opened, weren't you?”

 

“Um...” Horror dawned on Theo's face while Sabrina frowned, locked out of the loop. They hadn't mentioned anything about encountering Lamia before...

 

“ _Then_ you ran away before I got the chance to play with you. That was hardly sporting.” Lamia pouted, batting her eyelashes like a pre-teen girl trying to appear more mature. It would have looked terrifying had she been in her demonic form, but it was deceptively endearing with her human brown eyes.

 

“Lamia,” Sabrina interrupted before the demoness had the chance to say anything else incriminating. “This is Theo, and the other two are Roz and Harvey. They are my friends, and it is extremely important that no harm comes to them. Ever.”

 

“Of course, Queen Sabrina. Any...friends...of yours are friends of mine,” purred Lamia, still one hundred percent focused on Theo. Sabrina knew better than to believe her, resolving that she would never leave Lamia alone with her friends even if her life depended on it.

 

There was little to do at school that day, what with most of the teachers being absent along with over half of the student population. They wondered down the corridor towards the lockers, where Billy Marlin and a couple of his cronies were hanging out. Somewhat shocked that Billy had even bothered to turn up, Sabrina turned to Theo in concern.

 

“It's fine. We're cool now,” he muttered, hands in his pockets as his eyes flickered over to the former bully. He didn't seem entirely convinced of his statement. Neither was Sabrina.

 

“Make sure to tell me if he ever bothers you again. _No_ , Lamia!” She reached out to grab the demoness, who was making a beeline for the boys. With another pout, Lamia flounced over to Sabrina's other side and sulked for the next several minutes.

 

Not sorry about Lamia's silence at all, Sabrina went over to her own locker to open it. She figured that she needed to empty it out since she was never coming back here, not that any of its contents were going to be of any use to her from now on, all of her schoolbooks on algebra and biology and English literature just the trappings of her old, dead life.

 

She paused when she came across her copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ , hit by another unexpected flashback. Her and Harvey, sitting on the couch in the library and practicing their lines, unable to keep the feelings they still held for each other hidden any longer. Hands had entwined, and then lips had met, and it had been as though nothing had come between them at all; like they had never broken up in the first place.

They were each other's first loves, childhood sweethearts, and a bond like that was not so easily severed. They'd nearly gotten back together that day...but of course _He_ had to ruin it all.

 

It might have changed everything. Perhaps she would have chosen the Path of Light over Night, and wouldn't have ended up fulfilling the Dark Lord's prophecy, and none of these terrible things would have happened. But she had ended up choosing Nick, and the darkness along with him.

 

 _Nick_. She could never forgive him for what he had done to her. His betrayal still cut her like the blade of the athame with which Blackwood drawn her blood on her Dark Baptism; like Baphomet's filthy claws.

She wanted to hate him for it, but...a part of her still loved him and what was more, _missed_ him. He had always understood her so well. He treated her like an _equal_ , in a way that none of the other male figures in her life ever had. Not even Harvey. Harvey was too over-protective, the Dark Lord was too possessive, and Father Blackwood...well, the less said about him the better.

 

Whether it be as friends or paramours, she and Nicholas Scratch seemed to have been made for each other, and while all the signs pointed to it, she would never know whether a relationship could have formed between them even without the Dark Lord's interference. That opportunity was gone forever.

 

“Brina? Are you OK?” Roz snapped her fingers in front of her face and Sabrina blinked, aware that she had zoned out for a few seconds.

 

“It's nothing,” she said with a forced smile, stowing the script away in her bag along with the rest of her textbooks. That much wasn't a lie. In the end, it was what she and Nick were destined to share together. Nothing.

 

Even with the constant, unwelcome presence of Lamia beside them, the rest of the day managed to pass too quickly. Most of it was spent reminiscing over old times rather than discussing the more recent horrors, and it was a much-needed break from reality.

They were sitting in their usual place on the staircase when Lilith came striding up to them, high heels clacking on the hard linoleum floor.

 

“I hate to break up what I'm sure is a most cheerful little gathering, but I've kept the school open an hour late for you. The time has come for you to all say goodbye and go home,” she announced, standing over them with her hands on her hips.

 

“It's only four. Isn't the school usually open later than this?” Roz's inquiry earned a lofty glare from Lilith.

 

“Normally. But since you can see now, Ms. Walker, surely you can also see that we are extremely understaffed. It would have made things easier if you had your reunion elsewhere, but Sabrina holds very fond memories of this place for some reason and the Dark Lord does so enjoy inconveniencing me.”

 

Sabrina winced at those last words, though it went over the others' heads as they all shuffled to their feet with great reluctance, looking to Sabrina questioningly.

 

“When will we be able to see you again?” asked Harvey, his face lit with concern.

 

“I don't know.” She chewed her lip, realizing that she had no idea. “It isn't safe for you to come to the Academy. Maybe we can meet up at Dr. Cerberus's sometime?” _If I'm ever allowed to leave the Academy walls_ , she silently added. It seemed highly unlikely that would ever happen.

 

“When the occasion arises, I will be the first to let you know,” Lilith assured them, in much the same way someone would say, “ _Don't call me, I'll call you_.”

 

Saying goodbye was a bit easier than Sabrina thought it would be, but not a lot. She hugged each of her friends again, sorry she wouldn't be seeing them for the unforeseeable future but glad that they weren't coming with her to the hellish place she was returning to.

 

They seemed a lot sadder to be seeing the back of her. Roz started crying while they embraced, clinging to her as though she didn't want to let her go, and Harvey and Theo were still consoling her when she left.

She threw one last look back to see them all huddled together, Roz continuing to sob uncontrollably, before she and Lamia vanished together.

Her best friend's behaviour puzzled her. Roz had always been the one more easily moved to tears, but seeing this sudden outpouring of emotion after the relative stoicism she had shown today seemed odd. Could it simply be the result of her bottling all her emotions up? She hoped that was all, but she held a nagging suspicion that there was more to it.

 

She was still brooding over it as she and Lamia were greeted by the familiar yet unwelcoming sight of her bedroom, its occultic luxury the polar opposite of the mundane world they had just left. Mentally frazzled, she collapsed into the Bergere chair by the mantelpiece and watched Lamia dance about the place.

 

“That was so much fun! Your human pets are so adorable!” she trilled, casting off her glamour and loosening her wild tresses from the two neat braids she had tied them in.

 

“Friends,” Sabrina corrected her.

 

“My apologies, Dark Lady. But they do sound like the same thing to me,” said Lamia with unconvincing repentance. She drew to a stop, clapping her hands together. “Now! I will go and bring you some afternoon tea, and _then_ I will need to get you ready!”

 

“...Ready for what?”

 

“For this evening's banquet, of course!” Lamia told her with exaggerated patience, as though this wasn't the first Sabrina had heard of it.

 

“ _Another_ one?” The one at her coronation had been unbearable enough, and she really didn't feel up to socializing with demons again so soon. Was this also going to be a near-daily occurrence from now on? Was it how the Dark Lord had entertained himself while he was in Hell? She knew he had the reputation of being an unabashed hedonist, but she would have thought it would become boring even for him after a while.

 

Still, it was far from the worst thing she would be subjected to.

 

“It's more of an infernal get together, really. Some of the aristocracy of Hell who couldn't make it to your coronation will be there. There won't be so many guests tonight but we still need you to look your best.”

 

Sabrina groaned to herself. _Great. More beauty rituals._

 

There was a good reason that one of Prudence's last requests as Queen of the Feast had been a buttermilk bath. Milk baths were a staple of overindulgence; ludicrously expensive by ordinary means, they left the skin feeling as smooth and soft as silk. They were one of those things Sabrina had always wanted to try for herself but didn't think was worth it; even with her witch powers, conjuring up that much milk would have been exhausting.

 

Now that she was being given her fourth one in less than forty-eight hours, administered by an obnoxiously over-talkative demoness to boot, she wished she could just take a shower instead.

 

Still, it was far from the worst thing she would be subjected to.

 

“Your friend is so interesting,” Lamia sighed.

 

Sabrina lay back in the sunken tub while the demoness massaged her shoulders, something she was surprisingly skilled at. She turned her head towards Lamia, smiling slightly in spite of herself. It was refreshing to hear a creature of Night speaking of mortals with something other than pure contempt.

 

“They're all interesting. Which one do you mean?”

 

“The one who has a female body, but a male spirit...” said Lamia, her smile sweet but her eyes as black and lifeless as always.

 

“Theo?” He was the only one Lamia could possibly be referring to and while her description wasn't altogether off the base, it was obvious that she knew nothing about LGBTQ terms.

 

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, that's the one! His soul is so...pure. So innocent. Deliciously so.” Sabrina tensed up at this choice of words, the seed of dread taking root in the depths of her mind. Her trepidation went unnoticed by Lamia, who continued to muse aloud. “I can't help but wonder how it would taste.”

 

“No...” Sabrina objected, barely a whisper. She didn't know if Lamia heard her or not, but it didn't stop her.

 

“Or even just his flesh. I'm not choosy.”

 

“No way. For the third time, no one at Baxter High is on the menu! Especially not my friends,” Sabrina scolded her, or tried to; she was uncertain of how exactly one _would_ scold a demon. If this was Lamia's idea of a joke then it wasn't funny, and if she was being serious...

 

“Oh come on, just one teensy little bite-” whined Lamia, like a petulant child who had been denied the last slice of birthday cake.

 

It was the last straw. With one motion, Sabrina pushed away from Lamia; with a second, she stood up in the bathtub. She glowered down at the demoness who stared up at her in confusion. This only increased the all-consuming rage Sabrina felt in that second, towards Lamia and all the other diabolical beasts from Hell that were her responsibility.

 

Shooting the most evil glare she could muster, she snarled, “I promise you, demon. I swear it by all that is unholy. If you lay a single finger on Theo, or _any_ of my friends...if you _ever_ do anything to harm them, in any way- _I will make you regret the day you ever came into being._ ”

 

Even with all her fury, she couldn't have looked or sounded particularly intimidating; naked and lacking any of the demonic powers that Lamia possessed.

 

Yet the demoness recoiled as though Sabrina had struck her. Her small form trembled in terror, in the recognition that she had overstepped the mark. Throwing herself onto the marble bathroom floor, she cowered before the Queen of Hell.

 

“Please...please forgive me, Dark Lady! I would never harm anyone you deem important! I was only jesting- I forgot my place like the weak, foolish girl I am! Please, please forgive me!” she cried, tears spilling out of her black eyes as she banged her head on the ground in supplication. “If you wish to beat me for my impudence, then I understand.”

 

Sabrina gaped at her, taken aback by this sudden switch in demeanour. She'd half-expected the demoness to just let out one of her annoying giggles and continue with her distasteful jibes instead of taking her threat to heart. She certainly hadn't expected this sudden outpouring of remorse, and it made her profoundly uncomfortable.

 

Lamia became even more frantic at Sabrina's stunned silence. “Or if you don't wish to trouble yourself so, I can do it myself. Tell me the means, whether it be self-flagellation or flaying, or submerging myself in holy water. Whatever punishment you see fit, I deserve. If it will right my wrongdoing then I will happily go through with it!”

 

“What? No...” Sabrina found her tongue at last. “Don't do that.” She was disgusted that Lamia would even think something like that could please her. Then again...she _had_ come from Hell. Demons loved torturing people and themselves too, it seemed. This made far too much sense...and she wanted no part in it.

 

“But I have made you angry. I have shown you disrespect.” Lamia peered up at her, the tears continuing to stream, then hung her head again when she caught her mistress's eye. Sabrina felt the unpleasant stab of guilt which was becoming much too persistent for her liking. She had never wanted to see anyone act like that towards her; with such fear over what she might do to them, like a dog that had been beaten and abused its entire life. Lamia's deceptive youthfulness made it even worse.

 

Speaking as softly as she could, she tried to calm the terrified girl. “It's fine, Lamia. I don't want to punish you, just...don't say anything like that again, OK?” She lightly touched Lamia's bowed head in what she hoped would be seen as a sign of her forgiveness.

 

Lamia went still, shocked at Sabrina's words and actions. For a while she said nothing, not moving from her penitent position on the floor, until she finally whispered, “My lady is too merciful. I am unworthy of your forgiveness. I promise I will never speak so rashly again.”

 

With this apparent agreement reached between them, the rest of the bath ritual passed quietly. On the couple of occasions that Lamia said anything at all she was very formal, very professional. It couldn't have been more different from the childish bubbly exterior she had before, and while Sabrina had found it annoying at the time...its absence was leaving a deep chasm between them.

It was a relief when it was over. Lamia drained the bathtub, helped her out of it and dried her off, before wrapping her up in a fluffy black bathrobe that felt as soft as dark feathers on her newly exfoliated skin. As they left the bathroom to head over to the wardrobe, they were met by Lilith.

 

The Mother of Demons still wore her full Ms. Wardwell guise, complete with impractical high heels and neat pencil dress. She took one look at them, both resolutely avoiding each other's eyes, and said, “I'll take it from here, Lamia. You may take your leave for today.”

 

Slightly happier at this reprieve, Lamia disappeared off into thin air. Also relieved to be seeing the back of her, Sabrina accompanied Lilith to the closet and stood idly in the doorway while the demoness put her evening's outfit together.

 

“What did you say to her?”

 

Sabrina stirred at Lilith's question, unsure if it was being asked as a reproach or not. “It wasn't what I said, it was what she said. She was talking about eating Theo,” she said defensively, assuming it to be the former.

 

Lilith tutted as she searched through the rack of dresses. “Demons have an peculiar sense of humor. I have never found it especially funny myself. But you're going to have to get used to it if you hope to retain your sanity in your new position, especially with _her_ as your handmaiden.” She chuckled derisively.

 

“But I don't know that she was joking. Lamia _eats children,_ it's what she's best known for,” Sabrina argued, realizing it was fruitless to expect one vicious demoness to understand her grievances with another demoness.

 

“Lamia is a cannibal, like most of us. She happens to favor youths as her prey, just as I favor men. But she is also loyal, it is why the Dark Lord chose her to serve you. If you, I or the Dark Lord order her to do something or in this case, not to do something, then she will obey,” Lilith explained, pulling a black lace gown off the rack and frowning at it before putting it to one side. “This one will do.”

 

“I think she might hate me now.”

 

Lilith smirked again at this. “Love, hate- it makes no difference in the end. What matters is that people respect you. Choose a crown.”

 

Sabrina didn't care much which one she wore as long as it wasn't the hideous coronation crown. With barely as much as a glance at the display of headpieces that Lilith was pointing to, she picked out the first one she saw- a reasonably lightweight tiara of inverted crosses and pentagrams.

 

Lilith held it up appraisingly. “Hmm...a good choice. Contemporary though. You'll find that some of these date back hundreds, even thousands of years. The great queens of the past were their original owners, until Hathor collected them upon their deaths. The False God has no love for women in positions of power.”

 

Sabrina studied the crowns with renewed interest upon hearing this, noticing that some of them did indeed look like they were from particular periods of history. She recognized a snake-like piece that was surely from ancient Egypt, and a golden wreath that could have been either Roman or Greek.

She would have assumed it to be simply a stylistic choice before, a clever imitation of ancient aesthetics.

 

Lilith gave a wistful sigh. “I used to enjoy looking through them all and contemplating which one I would make my everyday crown when I became Queen of Hell.”

 

Sabrina wasn't in the mood for another guilt trip. “I didn't ask for this.”

She did regret that Lilith had been denied her crown, she really did; and she especially regretted all the other crap that she was having to put up with. But she didn't want to be reminded of it, especially not while she was going through struggles of her own.

 

Lilith's bitter smile returned in full force. “I am well aware. It can't be helped now. As I told you, the Dark Lord always gets his way.”

 

A mutual understanding passed between the two witches then, even as Sabrina's stomach churned with nerves. She had gone the whole day without having to see him, and it had been liberating. She didn't know how she was going to face him tonight, especially after witnessing the aftermath of what he had done to Lilith.

He had shown her the smallest amount of leeway the night before. Now he would be expecting the impossible.

 

She had to put on a display of obedience, of adoration, be put on a pedestal, faking a smile to the world, while inside she was in mourning for her lost life.

 

And that was just in public. Tonight...there would be no avoiding it, and she didn't think she could take it again. But she had to. She had to submit, or else the people she loved would suffer for her defiance.

 

She expressed none of these concerns to Lilith, though she was sure the demoness must be aware she was having them. She seemed more withdrawn than usual as she dressed Sabrina in her gown, crown and jewels, and applied her make-up for her. Once the makeover was complete, she led her over to the full-length mirror.

 

“You look queenly enough. I'm sure the Dark Lord will be satisfied, in any case. He will be coming to collect you shortly and escort you to the feast. I will probably be attending too, but first I must go and change into something more suitable than...this.” She gestured to her schoolteacher dress with a deeply disdainful expression and teleported away, leaving Sabrina to her woes.

 

It was all too quiet without Lamia or Lilith around, and she could almost hear her own heart pounding from anxiety. She tried to make herself smile as she examined her reflection, to try and psych herself up, but she couldn't make it look genuine. The girl in the mirror didn't seem like her.

In her black lace dress with its little puffed sleeves, her heavy no-makeup makeup, her carefully matched jewelry, her white gold curls, and that stupid Satanic tiara, she didn't even seem human.

 

She looked just like...

...a doll.

 

With nothing else to do but wait, Sabrina retook her seat by the fireplace and watched the flames flicker and dance in the grate; beautiful and deadly, much like the fires of Hell she summoned to defeat the thirteen Greendale witches. A miracle only three other witches in the whole of existence had been able to accomplish. She had been so powerful then, so sure that she was destined for great things, ardent to make the world a better place. She had gone from that...to this.

 

Her thoughts were distracted when a loud crash of thunder sounded from behind her. He was here.

 

“Sabrina.”

His hand caressed her shoulder, her upper arm. She whirled around to see Lucifer smirking down at her with a feral gleam in his searing gray gaze. He was dressed for the evening in one of his barely-there jackets, this one in the darkest red shade of wine...or blood. It was open almost to the naval, displaying most of his perfectly sculpted chest.

 

“D-Dark Lord.” She tried and failed to keep the shocked squeal out of her voice. She had been anticipating his arrival but she hadn't expected to be sneaked up on like that. In retrospect, she probably should have.

 

With a small snicker at her obvious fright, he asked her, “Are you ready to go?”

 

Sabrina nodded, though in reality she didn't think she would ever be ready to go anywhere with him.

 

“Good.” He held out his hand to her. Once he had helped her to her feet, he pulled her close to him in disquieting intimacy, murmuring to her, “You look absolutely _delectable_ tonight, my queen. Lamia has done an excellent job, though I won't give her too much credit. Her work was made easy by such a beautiful canvas.”

 

Bringing her hand to his mouth, he placed a lingering kiss on the back of it while she inwardly screamed. Even his compliments managed to be dehumanizing.

 

Releasing her, he cast a brief look around the room then gave her a questioning frown. “Where is your handmaiden, anyway?”

 

“I gave her the rest of the evening off.” It was a white lie.

 

“Tsk. I wouldn't advise being so lax with your servants, my daughter, especially not this early on. Give them an inch and soon they will be taking a mile. If you want Lamia to show you the respect you are owed then she needs to learn it, through any means necessary.”

 

Sabrina bit her lip to stop herself from saying something she knew she would regret, anger burning in her like a glowing ember. His advice was so needlessly cruel. No wonder Lamia had been so terrified earlier on. She had been given the power of life and death over her handmaiden, and the Dark Lord was encouraging her to abuse it.

 

“Now...shall we?” He held his arm out to her again, and she took it reluctantly as they left her rooms to head to the feast together.

 

“So, did you enjoy visiting your mortal pets?” he enquired while they walked, as a conversation opener.

 

“Friends.” Perhaps she should start a tally of how many corrections she had to make on this.

 

“Hmm?”

 

She hadn't thought she would need to elaborate.“They're my friends, not my pets,” she reiterated.

 

“You can call them whatever you like, daughter dearest. That doesn't change what they are,” he said, taking on that infuriatingly patronizing tone. “Your adoration for the mortals has always perplexed me. I would call it one of your many endearing qualities, but it has posed a lot of problems. Particularly your relationship with that boy. It's just as well he set his sights lower and chose the Cunning girl instead. I know it would have saddened you if I had to destroy him.”

 

Sabrina nearly gasped out loud. _No!_ Hearing this made her realize breaking up with Harvey was the best thing she had ever done. She might have ruined his life, but it may well have been what spared him from becoming the target of the Dark Lord's jealous wrath.

 

Lucifer ploughed on, either ignorant or unconcerned of the panic he had caused his daughter. “That being said, I have to question the boy's taste. Why he would want that dull, holier-than-thou sow of the False God when he could have had you, is beyond even my own comprehension.”

 

It was last night all over again. Sabrina dug her nails into her palm on her free hand, in a vain attempt to quell her growing anger. Was he making it his mission to insult each and every one of her friends?

 

“As for the abomination-”

 

He had gone too far. “Theo is _not_ an abomination!” she shouted, letting go of his arm and halting in the middle of the corridor.

 

He raised a sardonic brow in response to her tirade. “Yet you immediately knew it was him I was referring to. But don't be so hasty. I wasn't criticizing, merely making a statement. Unlike the False God, I place a lot of value in abominations. Your little “friend” will face no ill treatment under my rule...at least, not for that reason.”

 

Chuckling darkly, he snatched her wrist and forced her to resume their journey. She was still fuming when they reached the doors to the drawing room.

 

Instead of opening them, Lucifer turned back to her. “Remove that scowl from your face, daughter. It does nothing for you. I want to see you smiling.”

 

If anything, his demand caused Sabrina's scowl to deepen. Something dark surfaced in the Dark Lord's expression then; something that frightened her on a primal level. He grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks hard, and growled,”Have you forgotten what I told you last night?” His words were soft but each was laced with the promise of threat.

 

He had told her a lot of things and she remembered all of them, but she knew which he was referring to. She also knew that if she didn't do as he said, she would pay a high price for her defiance, as would her aunties, Ambrose, or her friends.

 

Loathing him and herself, she shelved every ounce of her pride and forced herself to smile. It probably looked more like a grimace.

 

Fortunately for her, the Dark Lord didn't see it as such. “There, doesn't that feel better? You should always smile like that, for me.” He ran a finger down her cheek, her skin tingling where it made contact, before straightening up and facing the doors once more. “Now, time for us to face our subjects.”

 

Without him so much as moving a hand, the doors swung open, revealing the infernal gathering taking place in Blackwood's former drawing room.

 

She couldn't say she liked what they had done with the place. While all the occultic décor and Gothic furniture was still present, a lot of new decorations had been added too, all very hellish in nature. Lamps crafted from human skulls hung from the ceiling, filling the room with an ominous, unnatural orange light.

Red roses were scattered about, which seemed tame enough at first...until she focused her gaze on them properly and saw that they were literally dripping in blood.

Even the draperies looked suspiciously like they had been sewn out out of human skin.

And then there were the guests themselves.

 

Instead of sitting at tables, most of the demonic guests were sitting or lounging on the numerous couches and cushions dotted about. She spotted Lamia hanging out with a group of other young demonesses, probably much older than they appeared. She also recognized some of the other guests from her coronation including Eisheth and Naamah, whom she knew she would need to deal with at some point this evening.

However, she couldn't see Hathor and Ishtar among them, and by the looks of things Lilith hadn't shown up yet either.

 

All the demons stood and bowed upon her and the Dark Lord's entrance, not sitting down again until they had both taken their own places in the centrefold.

 

Despite feeling relatively hungry (none of the kitchen staff had been on duty at Baxter High that day), Sabrina wasn't expecting she would be able to eat much, or at least nothing balanced. In her short time as Queen of Hell, she had started to gain an understanding of demonic cuisine. It involved a great deal of meat; human meat being the preference, the younger the better, cooking optional.

And if there was anything else demons liked anywhere near as much as meat, it was sugar, possessing such an undeniable sweet tooth that even a lot of the savoury dishes were sprinkled with sugar or drenched in honey.

 

But to her surprise, she saw that there was also a wide selection of vegetarian dishes, on the table directly in front of her at least. Relieved, she heaped her plate with a bit of everything and made a start on it, trying to ignore the fact that she felt like a piece of meat herself in the midst of all these demons.

 

“Hmph, no sign of Caliban. I hope he is not planning on causing me any trouble,” the Dark Lord remarked, as he surveyed his guests.

 

“Isn't he one of the Princes of Hell?” Sabrina asked. She didn't know a lot about him, other than what little was written in her Satanic textbooks and that Prudence had called him sexy, but if he had anything in common with the Caliban from _The Tempest_ then she was glad he hadn't shown up.

 

Lucifer nodded, vaguely impressed. “So you _have_ been paying attention to your witch studies. Yes, and he thinks far too highly of himself. I have reason to believe he wishes to take my place. He can try. I would crush him like the vermin he is and throw what remains into the darkest Pit.”

 

“Oh.” Sabrina wasn't sure what to say in response to that, though secretly she thought it rather hypocritical for the Dark Lord to accuse anyone else of having too high an opinion of themselves.

 

His eyes were searching the crowd for someone else now. He soon found them. “Pruflas.”

 

Pruflas was on the other side of the room, but he still heard his Dark Lord's summons and was over in a split second, kneeling before him and Sabrina.

 

“My Lord.”

 

The Dark Lord gestured for him to rise. “Stand. Sabrina, I believe you and Pruflas have already encountered one another?”

 

They had. Sabrina would have recognized that ferocious birdlike head and flamelike body from anywhere. He'd tried to wreak havoc on Greendale over the New Year, and would have succeeded had she, Nick and Prudence not managed to banish him back to Hell.

Accompanying him was Dwy Ferch Geg; a dark spirit who had been a bishop's daughter in life, pointing the finger at countless women and having them executed for witchcraft. It seemed that even the False God wanted nothing to do with her, so upon her death she was sent to Hell where she became Pruflas's handmaiden and main lackey. She knelt by his feet in a position of subservience, looking deeply unhappy.

 

Sabrina goggled at them. “It's you! But- I banished you?” _Awkward_ , she thought. Yet Pruflas didn't seem to hold any hard feelings; on the contrary, he seemed genuinely delighted to see her.

 

“That you did, my queen, and I must say, you were magnificent. Such power! Such rage! Enough to put the highest of demons to shame!” he gushed, with what appeared to be utmost sincerity, while his handmaiden stared lifelessly at the floor.

 

“Well, thank-” Sabrina started to stammer, not knowing what to make of this unexpected praise, until she noticed Lucifer giving her the side eye. “I mean yes, I was,” she finished, putting on an air of feigned superiority.

 

Pruflas hadn't finished his flattery yet. “Truly, the apple does not fall far from the tree. Only a King as great and awe-inspiring as our Dark Lord could have produced such a paragon of her kind. One would never believe you had a mortal for a mother-”

 

The Dark Lord cut across him. “That will do, Pruflas. Carry on.”

 

The demon prince returned to his seat, the Dwy Ferch Geg trailing miserably behind him, and Sabrina understood her sorrow all too well. If the treatment she received from her master was anything like what Lilith received from hers then she was a very pitiful creature indeed.

 

Lucifer nudged her, his handsome face smug. “You see, Sabrina? You were born for this part. They can all see it-” a sweeping gesture towards the guests, “-and it's about time you did too.”

 

She was far from convinced. “But not all of them want me as their queen. The Plague Kings-”

 

“The Plague Kings will be dealt with accordingly, I promise you. Do not let them concern you, my daughter. Your rule is just beginning while theirs is at its end,” Lucifer assured her, wrapping an arm around her upper back and pulling her against him. She stifled a squeak.

 

The next couple of hours or so passed in uncomfortable silence, at least on Sabrina's part, as the Dark Lord occupied himself in conversing with other demons, most of whom were as grovelling and gushing as Pruflas. It was no wonder he was so full of himself.

She continued to nibble at the vast array of food on offer, more to alleviate her growing boredom than anything else. Who could have thought a demonic dinner party would turn out to be such a dreary affair? She was waiting for Lilith to show up so she would at least have someone familiar to talk to, but as the evening dragged on it became obvious that she had decided not to come.

 

_Can't say I blame her._

 

Once she could eat no more, Sabrina put down her plate and, not wanting to stall any longer, dared to broach the subject she had held at the forefront of her mind all night.

 

“Dark Lord...” she began, in apprehension. How she hated having to ask favors from him.

 

He touched her hair affectionately, smiling at her. “Yes, little one?”

 

“I need to speak to you about Greendale...”

 

Lucifer sighed, evidently disappointed in her choice of subject matter. “Hnn...not the most interesting topic, but go on.”

 

“Eisheth and Naamah, they...there was an incident in town that I'd rather wasn't repeated. They were told to protect Greendale but I don't like the way they're going about it.”

 

She thought the Dark Lord might want more information, but he simply said, “Then you know what to do.”

 

She furrowed her brow in confusion. “Um...no, I don't?”

 

“I gave Greendale to you, therefore Eisheth and Naamah take their orders from you. If you have any grievances with the way they are doing things then it is _your_ prerogative to correct them.” She stared at him blankly, and he edged closer to her. “Summon them.”

 

Sabrina looked over to where the two beautiful demonesses reclined, sipping wine and in the process of flirting with the winged demon Pazuzu. Doubting that she would even be able to catch their attention, she looked back at the Dark Lord helplessly.

 

“Go on,” he said, giving her shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

 

Feeling ridiculous, she cleared her throat and called out. “Eisheth! Naamah!”

 

In lightning speed, they were there and kneeling in front of her, addressing her in unison.“You require something of us, Dark Lady?” Two pairs of jewel-bright eyes fixed on her, waiting for her to speak.

 

Sabrina took a second to find her voice, and tried to make it sound as authoritative as possible. “Yes. About Greendale. The Dark Lord ordered you to defend it on my behalf.”

 

“As we did, Dark Lady. No harm will come to the mortals under our watch,” said Naamah, the taller and more assertive-looking of the two. Everything about her seemed birdlike; from her hawkish, predatory eyes; her shining bronze wings; and the razor-sharp talons in the place of hands and feets, ideal for slicing off heads with.

 

Swallowing her nerves, Sabrina inquired, “Then what is this I hear about you killing a man the other day?”

 

The two demonesses met each others eyes and snickered, in a way that reminded her far too much of the Weird Sisters, and Sabrina felt the first of her patience ebb away.

 

“Answer me!”

 

Naamah blinked at her, feathered eyelashes fluttering. “He attacked us first, my queen. He shot at my sister. Do I not have the right to defend her?” Her voice was exotic and musical, carrying an accent that Sabrina couldn't place.

 

“You didn't have to kill him!” she said angrily, refusing to take their victim card. “It wasn't like he could have done you any actual damage.”

 

“You can say that again,” Eisheth said, with a silvery laugh. Where Naamah resembled a bird, Eisheth was more like a bat- with six pairs of leathery dark wings, horns crowning her head, skin the grayish color of charcoal, and a surprisingly cute face. The smaller and softer of the two, she was like the Hathor to Naamah's Ishtar, but with none of Hathor's compassion.

 

Naamah still dared to argue. “If we had let it slide, it wouldn't have stopped there. More of them would have tried it and before you know it they would have been firing those weapons everywhere, including at each other. You know how trigger-happy mortals are.”

 

She had a point, Sabrina had to admit, though everything she had seen and heard of demonkind suggested they were the same.

 

Rubbing her forehead wearily, she said, “In future, if any mortals try to attack you _or_ each other, just knock them out, please. No more beheadings!”

 

“Duly noted, Dark Lady.” The two demonesses bowed their heads. “Is there anything else?”

 

Sabrina shot an aside glance at Lucifer, who had been unusually quiet, only observing her intently.

“There is, actually. I also hear that you've put a magical barrier around Greendale that stops people from coming in and out. That doesn't seem necessary.”

 

Naamah frowned, puzzled at this complaint. “But too many people were trying to get in, my queen, trying to claim sanctuary. The townspeople were getting agitated about it. Normally we wouldn't care what mortals think, but since you have forbidden us from killing them-”

 

“Everyone has the right to be safe, and no one should be kept prisoner in their own home. Dispel the barrier,” Sabrina demanded, sick of hearing their excuses. Why did they think they knew better than her? It was her town, not theirs!

 

“We would really advise against-” Naamah began, and Sabrina saw red.

 

“I don't need your advice. I've given you an order. I'm not telling you again. Dispel the barrier, now.” She hardly raised her voice, but spoke with a finality that made it clear her decision was not to be contested. If they argued any further, there would be consequences.

The demonesses exchanged startled and somewhat frightened glances. They had probably thought her a lightweight, but they had thought wrong. Eventually they bowed again, not daring to meet her fiery gaze.

 

“We will do so at once, Dark Lady,” they said together in a defeated monotone, humbled for now.

 

“Good. You may go.” Sabrina dismissed them.

 

Once they had disappeared off to fulfil her orders, Sabrina let out an intake of breath, oddly light-headed. Had she really just done that? Bossed around two powerful demons like they were nothing? She didn't know whether she should feel pleased or ashamed at what she had accomplished.

She usually liked being in charge, at Baxter High and at the Academy when she got the chance, but this was a whole new level she was so far unfamiliar with.

 

And it wasn't like she was truly the one calling the shots. She couldn't forget that the Dark Lord had been by her side the whole time and it was really his power she was wielding, a sad truth which sucked most of the triumph out of what should have been a victorious moment for her.

 

He leaned forward, whispering in her ear. “Well handled, Sabrina. That has put them in their place nicely, I should think. And now that _that's_ been dealt with, what say you we retire for the night, hmm?” His hand trailed suggestively down her arm, and she resisted the visceral urge to pull away. She most certainly did not want to retire for the night with him, nor go anywhere with him at all for that matter, but as usual what she wanted was out of the question and there was no other reason for them to tarry.

As boring as she had found the banquet, all she wanted now was for it to continue the whole night but alas, the party was winding down, most of the demons in the process of saying their goodbyes or already gone. In the end, Lilith never had shown up.

 

“Come, my daughter.” When Lucifer offered his arm, there was nothing else to do but take it, even as every fibre of her being screamed at her not to.

He didn't bother walking her back to her rooms, opting for teleportation instead much to her dismay. If they had made the journey on foot then it would have put things off for at least a few minutes, but no, the Dark Lord was that fervent to get her on her own.

 

She was weak with dread when they appeared in her chambers, fully expecting him to waste no time in dragging her to the bed and having his way with her. Instead, he went over to the fireplace and settled himself in the armchair, while she stood uncertainly in the middle of the room.

 

“Sabrina.” He beckoned for her to come over, a playful smirk playing about his features. Thinking she would rather stay where she was, she followed, each step feeling like it was taking her closer to her own doom. When she reached him, he gestured to his lap. “Sit.”

 

Sabrina felt the heat rise to her face, her cheeks burning at this whole new humiliation. As mortified as she was, she had no option but to obey. Gritting her teeth, wishing she could simply disappear on the spot (not necessarily even needing to re-appear), she seated herself on his lap, fighting the urge to leap off again when he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her firmly in place.

 

As though there were nothing inappropriate about their position at all, the Dark Lord resumed his lauding of Sabrina's dealing with Eistheth and Naamah, besides himself with glee.

 

“You are a natural leader, Sabrina, always have been, just as I knew you would be. You refused to let those two wayward demonesses sway you. You can be sure that they will show you the utmost respect from now on. A little more practice is needed, but well, you only have the rest of eternity for that,” he said, with an ominously knowing chortle at the end.

 

“You really think I did that great?” Sabrina was a little taken aback at his glowing review of her performance, not expecting him to be happy with the orders she was giving, especially not when they were focused on the protection of mortals.

But maybe he didn't care about the orders themselves, only how she gave them...and that was concerning in itself. Should she really be pleased that _he_ was pleased?

 

“You are my child; my first and only born. It is in your blood to rule, in the very fabric of your soul. I didn't lie to you the other day when I told you I had waited a millennia for such a fit consort. It seems that my wait wasn't in vain.” He took both her hands in his, while a wide smile spread across his face. “You have made me proud, my daughter.”

 

He beamed at her, and it struck her how much it transformed him. Ever since she had met him in his true form, she didn't think she had ever seen him grinning in genuine joy; he smiled often, but it was always in mockery or arrogant self-satisfaction, more smirks than true smiles, just another way to look down on and demean others.

This was different. As handsome as he already was, it was only now that she could fully appreciate how he was so frequently spoken of as the False God's most beautiful angel.

 

It was mesmerizing, and simultaneously alarming.

 

“I have something for you. Another coronation gift as you will. I intended to give it to you last night but you never did give me the opportunity. Never mind. It seems more fitting to present it to you now, after you have demonstrated just how worthy you are.”

 

Releasing one of her hands, he summoned a small box into mid-air, and taking in the size and style of it, Sabrina was able to deduce what was inside before he had even opened it.

 

“Lilith tells me that you despise wearing the Crown of Hell. It is a rather impractical thing and you can hardly have it on _all_ the time. But even without the crown, as long as you are wearing this, everyone will immediately know you are my queen,” he boasted, as the box opened itself.

 

Inside was a ring, the most unusual of which she had ever seen. It was shaped like a crown, not the eyesore of a crown that she had worn at her coronation but something as similarly infernal, with tiny, intricately engraved occultic symbols etched around the edge; however, what really caught her attention was its color. It was not gold or platinum, nor any metal for that matter, instead carved out of what appeared to be a sparkling red gemstone.

It glinted in the firelight as he slipped it onto her ring finger, the blood red hue standing out against the white of her skin. Ruby?

 

“Red diamond,” he explained, as though in answer to her thoughts, “There only existed one large enough to carve this ring from, without using magic to cheat anyhow. I thought you deserved something as unique as yourself. Do you like it?”

 

“It's very pretty.” She was being truthful, but it was the only positive thing she could think of saying. It _was_ pretty; very grandiose, very unique, perfectly fitting for the Queen of Hell, and yet it seemed shallow and meaningless, marking her as just another one of his possessions, and had been created out of the destruction of another unique item besides.

 

She couldn't help but compare it with the last piece of jewelry she'd been given, the little silver “S” pendant Harvey bought her before her sixteenth birthday. It was far plainer and would have been cost barely a miniscule fraction of what this ring was worth, but she also knew Harvey had painstakingly saved up for it with what little allowance he received, had put considerable thought into choosing it especially for her, and had ultimately gifted it as a token of love rather than a sign of ownership.

 

Her disdain went mercifully undetected by Lucifer.

 

“It is. Yet nowhere near as beautiful as the one who wears it,” he said, gray gaze sweeping over her in open admiration, “You really do look lovely this evening, dolled up in all those jewels and that adorable little dress of yours. But do you know what?”

 

His voice was low and husky now, fingers tracing circles on her thigh, and she just knew what he was going to say next but that didn't make it any better to hear. His lips were a fraction of an inch from her ear as he purred, “You would look even better with it off.”

 

Her insides squirmed with fear and disgust. He gave her a light push, off of his lap. “Show me.”

 

The moment she had been dreading all day- no, ever since last time- had come. The fact that he had seen everything there was to see already wasn't enough to make it bearable now. Just the thought of disrobing before him, putting her body on display for his perverse pleasure, being somehow _complicit_ in her own violation, made her want to break down and weep.

She couldn't do this, she couldn't, she didn't want to...but she had to. That threat he had made against her aunts on the eve of her coronation was haunting her, as it always did each time she just desperately wanted to say _no_.

 

She had to see this through, for her sake and theirs.

 

With shaking hands, she began the slow process of undressing herself. Lilith had used magic to put the gown on her and it proved very difficult to remove. The Dark Lord made no attempt to help her, watching her hungrily as she struggled to undo all the hooks and buttons, exposing a bit more of her skin with each one, like some sickening Satanic striptease.

When she had finally managed to undo everything, she shrugged herself out of the gown, letting it fall to the floor.

 

Standing before him in the fire's infernal glow, clothed only in her revealing black chemise, jewelry, and occultic crown, she felt like her every weakness was on show too. She feared he would tell her to remove the rest of it too, but for the longest time he said nothing, only scrutinizing her, scanning her like a predator scanning his prey, until he eventually rose to his feet and closed the distance between them. Grasping her arms tightly, he captured her lips in a deep kiss.

 

It was just as it had been during the first kiss he forced on her, like all of them had been. She hated it, wanted to pull away or bite down, every inch of her burning with hatred towards him and what he was doing to her, yet at the same time she burned for _him_. The same primordial part of her that told her to run from him was now telling her to submit, to return the kiss, to burn with him, that it was the only way forward. And this part of her frightened her almost as much as he did.

 

Not breaking the kiss, he lifted her and carried her over to the bed where he laid her down on the crimson sheets, like a sacrificial lamb being placed on the bloodstained altar. That diabolical heat still burned within her even as she lay frozen in terror, watching her tormentor with fearful eyes. He gave her the briefest moment of respite only so he could remove his shirt, revealing the full sight of his muscular, well-defined torso, almost godlike in his perfection.

 

 _He really is beautiful_. She would have been lying to herself if she tried to deny it, and it seemed almost unfair.

 

His mouth was on hers again before she knew it, attempting to coax some of response out of her as he pinned her beneath him. She reluctantly gave it, trying to force herself to return the kiss even as a fragment of her soul withered at her own actions.

 

He broke the kiss after a few minutes, so as to admire her again. “You are far more appealing than any of the delights Heaven had to offer,” he breathed, placing another at the base of her throat.

 

It was the highest praise, but she didn't feel complimented in the slightest. She didn't want to appeal to him, she didn't want to be viewed sexually by him at all. It was wrong, and unnatural, and he was only seeing her like this now against her will.

 

Because she had no free will. He had created her to serve him, help him fulfil his dark agenda. Now that was complete, she was just here to amuse him, like the plaything she was.

 

That was all she was to him. A doll.

 

She turned her head away, closing her eyes as she felt tears prickling at the edge of them. She couldn't let him see her crying, she _couldn't_.

 

He continued to kiss her neck, his lips leaving a burning trail where they went. Soon they went lower, and he reached for the straps holding her chemise up, starting to undo them. An involuntary shudder ran through her at this and he paused, finally becoming aware that something was amiss with her.

 

“Sabrina.” His hand caught her chin, turning her face back to his. She kept her eyes shut, desperate to keep him from seeing the tears that had filled them. She mustn't let him know that she was crying.

 

“Sabrina.” Again, less patient now, but still she refused to open them; unwilling to face his impending wrath even as she knew it was inevitable. He had said he wanted no more of her self-pity, that he wanted her to be joyous, but how could she? It was impossible to be joyful when the only reasons she had were to be sad.

 

“Sabrina, look at me.” His grip had tightened now, nails digging in, his voice significantly more threatening, and she knew she couldn't get away with denying him any longer. She had doomed herself either way.

 

Her eyes opened, unseeing, and the tears flowed freely from them. There was no hiding them.

 

Now he would be angry. He had wanted her to be happy, to put on a fake smile, to be his perfect little doll, but now she was crying instead. She had defied him, and he had warned her what would happen if she did so again. She would be punished; her aunts would suffer, even die, and their souls would burn in Hell for all eternity because their niece was unable to do as she was told.

Unable to pretend to be someone she was not. Unable to perform the role that she had been created to perform, yet was so entirely unsuited to. The role that she had never been given any choice but to perform, and had no way out of. _It wasn't fair._

 

The thought of death had never appealed to her, but she had never longed for the cessation of her own existence as much as she did now.

 

The Dark Lord sat beside her, silently observing her as she sobbed, his expression unreadable. She was sure that he was furious and thinking of how he would punish her defiance.

 _Please_ , she mentally prayed, though she had no idea who to. _If he is going to punish me, then let it just be me. Not my aunties or Ambrose. Not Harvey, Roz and Theo._

 

And she wished he would just get it over with.

 

He eventually sighed and moved off the bed, raking a hand through his dark hair as he looked down at her, seemingly conflicted.

Then he reached out, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand. She initially flinched at the contact, but it was a soft touch, gentle, and it felt almost reassuring. He let it linger there for a few moments, until he finally spoke.

 

“Goodnight, my queen.”

 

Her eyes widened in shock.

 

He gave her what might have been the faintest ghost of a smile, and then he was gone.

 

He had retreated again, without so much as a thunder clap or flash of lightning. Was he gone for the night?

 

For a while she lay there, him still not returning, yet she didn't dare to move. He might come back. He might come back to hurt her, or to punish her. He might have gone to get Zelda or Hilda so he could slaughter them in front of her, or perhaps he was toying with her, giving her false hope just so he could destroy it again.

 

It was only after twenty more minutes had passed that she dared to feel the slightest bit of relief.

 

It seemed he really had decided to leave her alone. While she was thankful he had, she couldn't understand his reasoning for doing so. Was it because of her tears? She had wept during the first- and last- time, but it hadn't stopped him then. She doubted any display of emotion could ever move him. Unless...had she actually managed to get through to him last night? Had some of her tirade registered with him, and he had finally realized the error of (some) of his ways?

 

As though the Devil would ever be capable of self-reflection.

 

He was a heartless being who had raped countless witches, and refused to acknowledge that that or anything else he did could ever be wrong. In his eyes, right or wrong didn't even exist, so long as it aligned with his will. All of humanity, be it mortal, witch or warlock, were just playthings to him. The only person he truly cared about was himself.

 

“ _I believe he sees you as part of himself, and if there's one thing in this world he loves then it's himself. He will not be cruel to you.”_

 

Was Lilith right? Was it possible that she was somehow different, that he was capable of summoning up an ounce of respect for her he was unable to show towards anyone else? That he would never tire of her like he did of his other servants, because he didn't see her as one at all, but rather as the closest thing he would ever have to an equal?

 

He _had_ been cruel to her. But not as cruel as he was to others, to _Lilith._

Poor Lilith, abused and mistreated for so long. The Dark Lord had been so uncomfortable over her own anguish, yet had no qualms about torturing Lilith even after all her years of loyalty. He saw them both so differently. Lilith was no more than a slave, the wretched whore, the fallen woman.

But Sabrina...she still didn't know entirely what she was to him, and while he still seemed to view her as a possession, he also seemed to have put her on some kind of pedestal in his mind.

 

The more she thought about it, the more the horrifying truth began to dawn on her.

 

Lilith thought the Dark Lord had everything he wanted, but he didn't.

 

He didn't have her.

 

He had her body and soul, but he didn't truly have _her_. He didn't have her love, or her respect, or her gratitude, the three things he had wanted most of all. He didn't even have her full submission. She had denied him the night before, and he had taken it out on Lilith, and now she had denied him once more. She knew where he had gone now. Lilith would suffer for her actions again, and she would be the one responsible.

 

She knew then that the right thing to do- the most selfless thing- would be to call him back; to seduce him, return his affections, please him, so that he would have no reason to turn to Lilith instead and she would be spared. He would never hurt her as much as he would hurt Lilith.

 

But she didn't.

 

Perhaps that made her a coward. Perhaps it made her selfish. Perhaps it made her as arrogant and prideful as Lucifer himself, unwilling to crawl back to him after she had driven him away. Whatever the case, if it was a choice of either Lilith or her, then it would have to be Lilith.

 

It was enough to make her loathe her own existence.

 

It took her a long time to get to sleep that night, but when she did, her dreams were peaceful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I keep saying this, but that last scene with Sabrina and Lucifer was the most challenging thing I've ever written.  
> I swear, I didn't mean for Lamia to have such a big role when I first wrote her. Normally I don't like OCs that much myself, so I hope her parts aren't boring people too much. She will probably be taking a backseat in the next couple of chapters.  
> I took a bit of a risk mentioning Caliban since we know hardly anything about him (only that's he's a demon prince who's going to try & take over Hell in Part 3) but I figured his name probably would've come up at some point considering he's presumably a very high-ranking demon. Some fans are speculating that he's actually supposed to be Sabrina's half-brother but who knows? Lucifer did say Sabrina was his firstborn but then again, he's a liar.  
> Pruflas's appearance probably wasn't necessary but I actually wanted to include a canon demon for once, and his brief appearance in Daughter of Chaos was interesting because he's the only demon to appear so far that actually seems to be completely loyal to the Dark Lord XD  
> I was also hoping the Part 3 trailer would have dropped by now. Maybe next week or the week after? Anyway, it's highly unlikely that I'll be updating before Part 3 comes out, so I guess I'll see you on the other side. Unless it contradicts everything I've written in this fanfic and I end up dumping it in the trash 😆

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being way more dialog-heavy than I originally intended.  
> I really hope I was able to keep everyone in character. I know some people are probably wondering why Madam Satan seems so submissive/overly accepting here. Remember that she has been a victim of abuse for thousands of years, and that would leave definite mental scars. Her earlier plan failing essentially caused her to go back to her old mindset. But there's still hope for her.


End file.
